Three times Noctis enjoyed being tickled and one time he didn’t.
Time 1 – Regis
Noctis is five years old, and he is afraid of thunder. So tonight when a tumultuous storm rages outside his window, he runs down the marble halls, sliding in his socks and falling a few times. He does not knock when he reaches his father’s chambers; he simply bursts through the door and slams it behind him.
Regis, sitting in a comfortable reading chair infront of the fireplace, startles and nearly drops his book. He stares with surprised concern at his child, who stands leaning against the door, out of breath with tears streaming from his bloodshot eyes down his ashen face.
Regis smiles comfortingly. “Come here Noctis.” He pats his knee and beckons the boy forward, and Noctis runs to climb into his father’s lap. He cries into his plush robe and takes comfort in the combined warmth of the loving embrace and the crackling fire.
“Nothing can hurt us inside these walls, Son,” the father says, stroking his fingers through the child’s hair.
Noctis sniffles. “But Dad, doesn’t thunder mean Ramu is angry?”
Regis chuckles. “The Astrals bless us with their power and protection. Sometimes they remind us of that power. It’s nothing to be afraid of.”
At these words Noctis calms a little He lifts his head to see his father smiling down at him. Noctis tries to smile back, but his lip quivers.
“Do you feel better now, Noctis?”
Noctis nods, but one more stray tear falls. “Can I stay with you tonight?”
“Of course, Son. But we’ll have no more of this crying nonsense.” Regis’ smile widens and he gently pokes Noctis in his side.
Noctis flinches and smiles in spite of himself. “Dad, that tickles.”
Regis’ eyes widened in mock surprise. “Does it, now? What about this?” Regis pokes him several more times in quick succession, causing Noctis to squirm and laugh.”
“Yes, that tickles!” the boy answers thorough his giggles.
Regis laughs. “Really? I had no idea!” He wraps one arm around Noctis’ shoulders to hold him in place, then begins tickling all over his stomach and sides in earnest. The child’s shrill laughter drowns out a particularly loud crash of thunder.
“DAAAD! STOOOOP!” he screams, kicking violently, laughter turning into shrieks and squeals.
Eventually, but not immediately, Regis slows before stopping. It takes several minutes for both father and son to catch their breath. When they do, Regis stands, carrying Noctis to bed. He lays him gently down and pulls the blankets over him and then climbs into bed beside him.
“You aren’t afraid anymore, now are you?”
Noctis yawns widely and shakes his head.
Regis smiles. “Good. Sleep well, Son. I love you.”
Noctis huddles into his fathers side. “I love you too, Dad.”
Fill 1/4 - Noctis - Tickle Torture
Time 1 – Regis
Noctis is five years old, and he is afraid of thunder. So tonight when a tumultuous storm rages outside his window, he runs down the marble halls, sliding in his socks and falling a few times. He does not knock when he reaches his father’s chambers; he simply bursts through the door and slams it behind him.
Regis, sitting in a comfortable reading chair infront of the fireplace, startles and nearly drops his book. He stares with surprised concern at his child, who stands leaning against the door, out of breath with tears streaming from his bloodshot eyes down his ashen face.
Regis smiles comfortingly. “Come here Noctis.” He pats his knee and beckons the boy forward, and Noctis runs to climb into his father’s lap. He cries into his plush robe and takes comfort in the combined warmth of the loving embrace and the crackling fire.
“Nothing can hurt us inside these walls, Son,” the father says, stroking his fingers through the child’s hair.
Noctis sniffles. “But Dad, doesn’t thunder mean Ramu is angry?”
Regis chuckles. “The Astrals bless us with their power and protection. Sometimes they remind us of that power. It’s nothing to be afraid of.”
At these words Noctis calms a little He lifts his head to see his father smiling down at him. Noctis tries to smile back, but his lip quivers.
“Do you feel better now, Noctis?”
Noctis nods, but one more stray tear falls. “Can I stay with you tonight?”
“Of course, Son. But we’ll have no more of this crying nonsense.” Regis’ smile widens and he gently pokes Noctis in his side.
Noctis flinches and smiles in spite of himself. “Dad, that tickles.”
Regis’ eyes widened in mock surprise. “Does it, now? What about this?” Regis pokes him several more times in quick succession, causing Noctis to squirm and laugh.”
“Yes, that tickles!” the boy answers thorough his giggles.
Regis laughs. “Really? I had no idea!” He wraps one arm around Noctis’ shoulders to hold him in place, then begins tickling all over his stomach and sides in earnest. The child’s shrill laughter drowns out a particularly loud crash of thunder.
“DAAAD! STOOOOP!” he screams, kicking violently, laughter turning into shrieks and squeals.
Eventually, but not immediately, Regis slows before stopping. It takes several minutes for both father and son to catch their breath. When they do, Regis stands, carrying Noctis to bed. He lays him gently down and pulls the blankets over him and then climbs into bed beside him.
“You aren’t afraid anymore, now are you?”
Noctis yawns widely and shakes his head.
Regis smiles. “Good. Sleep well, Son. I love you.”
Noctis huddles into his fathers side. “I love you too, Dad.”