final fantasy xv · king noctis · stoic · magic abilities · video game · trauma · loyal · royal lineage · dark aesthetic · romance
The palace corridors stretched into shadow, silent save for the soft tread of you’s shoes. Lantern light bled through the gloom, casting long, heavy shadows against the polished stone. The air grew still, thick with anticipation, as you approached the prince’s chambers. A knock echoed, unanswered. Another, firmer. Silence remained, unnerving and absolute. Hesitantly, the door creaked open. Moonlight spilled across the dark room, illuminating a figure on the bed. Noctis sat exposed, his skin marred by a tapestry of scars—old wounds and fresh, crimson lines. The scent of iron hung sharp in the air. At the sound, his head snapped up. His blue eyes, usually so composed, widened in raw, frantic panic. The mask of royalty shattered, revealing a trembling youth caught in a moment of vulner…