#angsssst

I did this in the car so it's not great lol and my arm is still screwed up BUT

Hear me out

Robbie is dead he's inhabited the pulse/mech so it's kinda like sentient mech and Robbie lives?

Did some more also

Both Raya and Namaari die at only thirty due to an accident.

Fast forward a couple centuries later in a modern timeline and they meet each other once again.

They have no idea who the other is but they think 'this mysterious girl seems so familiar'.

Lots of fluff and angst.

Hi anon! A great concept for sure - I'm a sucker for soulmates or lovers through time.

I'd even be tempted to throw in a couple more meetings through history...always meeting each other again and again, and being drawn together.

     Noctis was staring into space again, he looked so tired, and Regis wondered what terrible scars Noctis was going to speak of now. What else had been done to him while he was lost and assaulted in foreign lands. He couldn’t imagine it was anything better than what they’d just heard. Surely once Niflheim had gotten their samples to make Dionysus, they wouldn’t have cared if their Chancellor played with and tormented the prince of the enemy nation. Noctis closed his eyes with something like defeat. Like he was going to admit something he never wanted to think about —and after everything he’d said here and before, everything his therapist hinted at when trying to help them help Noctis, what more could go wrong? What more did Regis need to hear to know the depth of his failure?—.

     “There are stories … of why Lucis Caelums can’t reach too deeply into their magic.”

     Regis’s chair screeched across the floor, only saved from crashing down and waking up Dionysus by a swift-acting Cor catching it, but Regis didn’t care. He didn’t care because that one sentence was enough to bring Regis’s world down around his ears, “No. Noctis, no. You didn’t. He didn’t make you…?”

     “What?” Gladiolus barked, glaring at Ignis when the Hand automatically hushed him to keep from waking the toddler in their midst, then repeated in a lower voice, “What? What did he do? What happens when a Lucis Caelum uses too much magic?”

     Noctis looked away, jaw tight, and didn’t answer. Regis swallowed the bile in his throat and answered for him, “There is a difference, Gladiolus, between using ‘too much’ magic and going ‘too deeply’. To use too much is to become magic exhausted, or even induce stasis. But to reach too deeply … our magic comes from the Crystal, and there are stories … stories of Lucis Caelums who tried to gain more power than their natural reserves allowed by seeking out that connection. By using the connection to go deeper into the Crystal’s magic in hopes of gaining more. Those Lucis Caelums died, mad and screaming of things they had never seen. That had never been.”

     Noctis shook his head slowly, and Prompto’s hands were white knuckled on his prince’s shoulders, the same as Regis’s hand was white knuckled on his son’s, “Not ‘what’s never been’. They went mad from the things that have already passed. The Crystal is memory. Magic is memory. Every Lucis Caelum knows that. The Ring proves that. The Ring isn’t … it isn’t separate from the Crystal. It’s a focal point for it. For the memories inside. The memories of every Lucis Caelum that has ever lived and breathed and died. The deeper you go, the more magic you get but … the more memories you have in return. But they aren’t your own memories and- and it hurts. It hurts so much, and it makes everything so confusing and hard to bear.”

     And it hurts. It hurts so much and it makes everything so confusing and hard to bear. Personal, intimate, knowing. Regis stepped fully into his son’s space and leaned down to hug Noctis tightly on the opposite side of his son’s clinging Heart. On some unspoken word, Ignis reached past them to gently pluck Dionysus out of his father’s lap and transfer him to Clarus, clear of the brewing emotions, the storm about to break, “Noctis.” Breathed Regis, “…How deep? How deep were you forced to go to achieve the power of the Chosen King?”

@dianakko-week

Summary:

With great power, comes great responsibility. Or in Diana's case, with great name, comes great responsibility. Worst is, she doesn't feel good and catch a cold, or is that what she had only catched?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26157139