shieldheir

[shieldheir]

ay what's good, thunder thighs 😛

❝ not your flirting apparently. try again. ❞

[shieldheir]

the weak aren’t worthy of serving as shield.

[shieldheir]

noct ⇁ astralheir:

                    heavy roll of cobalt, and an undignified snort are all that follows his mocking remark. if he weren’t so comfortable tucked into gladio’s embrace, surrounded by warmth, he’d elbow him and dance out of his reach. but he is comfortable, and the cold lingers, and he just might be laughing softly, love a warmth all its own. it wasn’t that he had forgotten —— he just didn’t want to take the time out of his afternoon to go. he hadn’t thought they’d be so short on supplies as someone usually kept the house stocked ( and he’d ignore that it had been his turn ).    ❛  come oonn. it’s not that serious.  ❜

                    part of him wants to break free of his hold and to continue on, to leave the cold behind and finish what they had come out here for. but another part of him clings to their closeness, shoulders curling in as he burrowed into the chest at his back, small sigh of contentment to depart. crown presses to shoulder, head tipping, eyes flitting toward lips with a smile of his own.    ❛  —— yeah. we could be doing this at home.  ❜    and he begins to rise to his toes, closing the distance between them as if to press lips together. yet, just before he gives in, he drags himself away, and quickly grabs onto familiar, calloused hand to tug him forward, his laughter muffled in the steady falling snow.    ❛  guess we’ll have to wait though.  ❜

he scoffs at the childish roll of his eyes that he’d been given, especially since he’d known from the beginning that he’d find some convenient excuse not to go. the only deviation from the original foreseen outcome is that the snow began to tumble down faster than he expected. in hindsight, he’s glad that he didn’t make the trip beforehand, lest they be deprived of the warmth of small moments like these where noctis is tucked away against him.  ❝ guess whose fault that is? ❞  in truth, he’s not too disappointed with noctis’ choices when it earns him longing looks like these where it becomes nearly a struggle to keep from closing the distance the prince teases him with. it’s childish, he thinks, that he frowns when he doesn’t get the kiss he’s expecting, replaced by the chill of winter wind and the bite of snow against his cheeks, only beginning to gather around his beard.  ❝ you’re— ❞  such a damn tease,  he thinks, and mentally he curses himself for not being better prepared despite his prediction.

it’s the smaller hand clasping his own and dragging him into the convenience that endears him, cradling with such urgency that perhaps he thinks that should he let go, he’d never be able to retrieve gladio. the way noctis thumbs through different options of snacks for the both of them to share brings about a smile that tears the seams of an expression once lost to disappointment;  thoughtful features focused on what he thinks they’d both enjoy. idle is the motion of his thumb sweeping across the back of noctis’ hand before tugging loose from its hold. palm settles upon his cheek, lifting his face enough for him to steal the tender affection he desired in the barest touch of their lips  ( not deep enough to linger but light enough, he hopes, to keep him wanting ).  ❝ just pick something already. we’re not gonna feed an army here, noct. ❞  —a cheeky grin his only accomplice to hopefully get them home sooner.

[shieldheir]

yoginai‌:

[shieldheir]

" do you have a name or can I call you mine? "

@astralheir ⇁ a soft thing.

it’d been about a month since he’d first started coming to the shop, crown of onyx hair the only way to recognize him since his eyes  ( whenever he wasn’t staring just a little too long ),  were always more interested in the notches of the hardwood floor than meeting his own. it’s always a different bouquet that he requests, one more extravagant than the last for his costar and assumed girlfriend—  lunafreya. gladio couldn’t blame the guy for wanting to shower her in constant affection;  she was beautiful by any standard and kind to any she’d met. it’s only by chance, he thinks, that noctis returned to his store to buy her the flowers he thought would suit her best. it’s almost an instinct, he thinks, to think a little too much of the way his ears flush just slightly when their eyes do meet every now and then, considering the way his eyes are unexplored depths waiting to be explored. there’s nothing quite like reading too much into the slight smile he’ll give before quickly looking away, or the noticeable drop in volume when he mutters a quick  ‘ thank you ‘  or an even faster  ‘ goodbye. ‘  

he doesn’t intend for his jaw to drop when the words are spoken, especially since he’d never intended to be caught off guard quite so easily, but it does nonetheless. in truth, gladiolus thinks it’s something he’s imagined at first with the way his innocent little crush seems to have spoken ahead of him. he can’t even help his own staring, though there’s a quick realization that he must speak before the opportunity vanishes.  ❝ i uh... i guess i better change my name, ❞  gladiolus knows all too well that it’s not his most clever response, but it’s also out of left field that he answers to begin with and time moves too quickly when he needs to make a good impression.  ❝ y’know, if you’re always this smooth, you might have to change your name to  ‘ prince charming. ‘  never knew a  pick - up - line  would be such a good icebreaker. ❞  —on him, of course. naturally, gladiolus is more than pleased that all those times he thought he’d made something from nothing were fruitful and not just the meanderings of his mind.   

❝ i’m gladio, by the way. ❞

[shieldheir]

This was the daily Gladnoct, I’ve been doing other things today T3T But also drawing… other stuff.

[shieldheir]

noct ⇁ astralheir:

                    he’s screaming in his own mind, words echoing back at him tenfold, rising in volume until he feels as if he might shatter like glass. nails drag against his thighs as he fights every urge to give in, give in give in. he is fragile in this moment; caught in the tremulous moment of do i or don’t i. it cracks at his resolve, batters against his walls, beats him until he’s black and blue. tongue clenched between teeth, he wars with the desire to bear his bleeding heart, or wrap it back up and hide it behind the walls of grief and pain that he so diligently erects when the pain becomes nearly unbearable. he breaks behind those walls. breaks and breaks until he’s nothing more than a shattered mess of grief and heartache kneeling on the floor, tears staining his cheeks, heart bleeding for a loss he has no right to feel. he couldn’t have that life. he couldn’t be with someone he loved. he grits his teeth, clings to his walls, and begs the sob not to slip past and expose him.

                                                  what’s wrong is that you’re with her and not me !!

                    he’s tried to find another, tried to find space in his heart to accommodate something. sought out the many girls who fawned over him from afar, painfully approached them and gave to them what they had craved for so long. attention and a smile, and words that fell empty from his lips. he couldn’t withstand many, left anxious and overwhelmed by the feeling that this isn’t right crushing his chest. and it wasn’t. nothing was right. he could only see amber when he looked at them, eyes too green, lacking in vibrancy. the absence of black ink across their chest startling, upsetting. the smell of earth replaced with sugar and cinnamon. he was caught in the realization that her hands were too small, too soft. laughter not deep enough. she was everything he should have wanted, but his heart had already been given to another. there was nothing that could change that. nothing he did could alter this cursed path he had set himself upon. 

                    for he loved gladio. he loved him. it was so obvious now, listening to his heart shatter in his chest, and feel the tears burn his eyes. he loved him and he could never have that. that is what has plagued him these past couple weeks. that is what his heart aches for when darkness descends and he’s alone, cold in an empty bed. it was wrong for them to have taken things so far. he let himself get comfortable in the closeness of their bond. twisted it until it became something he couldn’t have. king and shield. that’s what they were, that’s what they would always be. that’s all they could be. 

                    he still hasn’t spoken, and he knows the longer he’s silent, the harder gladio will be on him to reveal what wars within. already he knows that something is wrong, something more than usual and noctis knows he can’t talk about this yet. he can’t. he can’t face the rejection, the notion that gladio would never love him like this. could never love him as if breath came only in the form of the other’s life. as if his heart could only beat if the others did. so much of what he wanted was entwined with this man, and it was impossible. he didn’t want to face that, and he wouldn’t. instead he lets the harsh reality of his life take over, giving him fuel to an anger that simmered beneath the grief and pain, and pushes it forward. being angry was easy too. being angry helped him survive.

                    ❛  you’re my problem.  ❜    i can’t get you out of my head, out of my heart. it sits on his tongue, so ready to be released but he swallows, jaw grit, and barrels forward.    ❛  don’t you know when to quit? i get it. i have a lot to live up to.  ❜    a lot to live up to, a lot to give up, a lot he can’t have. he’s fully aware of everything that his title demands of him. he’s known for years when others think he’s too self-absorbed. he’s not so stupid as to be blind to the life that awaits him.    ❛  i get it.  ❜    softer now, still laced in fury, but so soft. i get it. you can’t be mine. he wants nothing more than to go home, to hide in his apartment, lose himself in mindless video games, take solace in prompto’s company, and bury himself beneath his sheets until he was nothing more than one with the bed. he rises, feet a little unsteady beneath him, but he refuses to seek help in this moment. he just wants to be out of his presence.    ❛  i’m going home.  ❜

with withered patience does he search  once - delicate  features for the answer to his query—  watches as his brows narrow to a malicious extent until he swears he’d open his mouth to say something he’s regret.  his voice is something he doesn’t receive, and he’s left with nothing more than the disparaging sound of the silence between them and the  astralforsaken  hope of a real conversation where the prince finally tells him what addles his mind. this pattern he maintains leaves his limbs stiff and his teeth practically bared. if anything, there is nothing more irritating, nothing that boils the blood within his very veins more than when he doesn’t let air what weighs on his heart and drags him into the depths of the darkest seas like the boulder it seems to be. in truth, gladiolus is in no mood to entertain the idea of extending the misconception that he can continue to get away with it anymore, if not for the way the way his brows draw inward, lips tight as if he’s just about to explain himself—  but he doesn’t. it’s infuriating and unnecessary, he thinks, pushing himself up on the heels of his palms enough to watch noctis’ face contort when he considers  too carefully  what he wished to say. he even considers cajoling him, as if pressing him further into a corner might finally make him burst, but he knows better. knows that will earn him weeks of silence that only he himself is to blame for. 

‘ you’re my problem, ‘  he finally says, and so too does he become. it’s not uncommon between them to have a skirmish or two when it came to the strain on his body at the cause of a new technique learned during training or even the way the king himself would ask that the prince be supervised when he wished nothing more than to be alone in some of his ventures  ( this much, he understood ).  this time, however, there is a certain volatility when he speaks, a hitch in his breath enough to signal that this is not a topic of their usual bickering. the tension in his shoulders only grows when only a small shred of his anxieties is allowed to come to light—  not nearly enough to cause him this much grief when he’d usually have too much to say. this time, it’s as though the words are jammed into his lungs, held together with as much tape and glue as he could muster if only to keep them from spilling forth. when noctis speaks again, his heart  DROPS  at the sound of vulnerability in the wake of all the malice he’d borne just moments before. it’s something he’s so unaccustomed to that he nearly doesn’t believe it once it’s aired—  a phantom sound wafting across the room from somewhere across the world he does not know. gladiolus opens his mouth, but dares not speak;  no amount of robust  return - fire  could salvage him in his current standing. there is no argument to bring forth that he hadn’t already heard a million times over—  the crown is a heavy burden and one he must bear without choice. that much, he’s well aware that noctis knows. there isn’t any doubt that all his determination is garnered into everything he does, especially when it’s for the sake of his future. 

gladiolus watches the prince’s posture hunch inward until he begins to stand, a darkness surrounding his mood that he can’t quite understand just yet. he’s the cause— noctis had said that much— but of what, he doesn’t yet know. somehow, with the copious amount of vulnerability shared with or without him actively trying, he cannot even bring himself to ask  ( a feeling entirely too foreign when he’s used to getting anything and everything he wanted from noctis by just asking ).  he’ll watch the way he hardly has the energy to even rise to his feet, watches his eyes nearly spill over with tears unshed as he tries desperately to keep himself in check. a chord tightens within his chest;  an astounding realization that there is nothing more he could possibly hate than to see noctis cry. it’s something he’s never realized because he’s never been given such an unfortunate opportunity before, even when he’s frustrated beyond belief. it’s why when he asserts his departure for his apartment, gladio reaches out to take hold of his wrist. his hold isn’t forceful— nor is the expression with which he regards noctis when he doesn’t look back at him— easily broken should he will it. for once, he decides a different approach is necessary, especially when he’s this wound up.

❝ what are you talking about? ❞  he nearly sighs—  sometimes he wished asking him whatever was troubling him wasn’t akin to pulling teeth. just once, he wished noctis would be honest with both him and himself, enough to make life easier for the pair of them. he’d never understand what kind of suffering the prince would have to endure if he’d never opened his mouth to tell him.  ❝ why are you so damn moody? what made you so upset that you can’t even look at me? ❞  he’s curious beyond measure;  the prince always makes it a point to glare daggers at him whenever he’s displeased or when they’re arguing  ( so why not now? ).  so he’ll give a gentle tug, bidding him to sit back down with him, if even for just a moment, blissfully unaware of the turmoil suffered by his charge.  ❝ you just did your first successful warp! can’t you be happy about that? ❞

gladiolus nearly reaches out to brush his hair away from his eyes, a gentility he doesn’t recognize as familiar until he’s warring with noctis’ stubborn heart. he wants to calm him down in any way he usually did;  sling his arm around his shoulder or even make a mess of  sleep - worn  hair, but he doesn’t. there’s nothing worse than the feeling of helplessness brought on when he can protect noctis from everything but himself.

[shieldheir]

noct ⇁ astralheir:

                    he nearly protests the treatment, now found settled in shield’s lap, close enough to breathe in the scent of him. he resists the urge to remove gladio’s hands from their ministrations, set to heal, to instead pull him into an embrace. what befell his body meant nothing in the end. but it was a good distraction when he begins to attend to his wounds, and the pulse of the ache echoes across his side. jaw tight, he schools his features so that gladio does not take blame upon himself for receiving these injuries. it was his own fault. if he had been more careful in their fight, taming the impulsive desire to rush head first into battle he might have come away with ribcage intact.

                    he doesn’t miss the scowl upon his rugged features, lips turned down as he cares for the wounds on his flesh, no doubt berating himself for allowing this to happen. but he had never once blamed gladio for the harm that fell to his body, and he would not stand for it now. gladio gave more than ever asked, and he could not control a prince bent on proving himself. he turned, wincing at the movement that pulled taut bruised and battered flesh, and cupped his jaw, head tilted as he studied rugged features he has long since memorized over the years. fingers reach to brush gently over the scar that adorned his forehead, marring skin. it was a constant reminder that would gladio have it, he would bear all scars that might come his way. 

                    free hand settles upon the knotted scar adorning his chest ( still a tug to his heart when he looks upon it, a scowl of his own to mark his features ), the other to tangle in chestnut locks, cradling as he tugs his head back gently that he might look into his eyes. he leans forward to press lips to a scar that first marked their journey of king and shield, a reminder that his life was not his own. a gentle sigh, wounds already beginning to ease in pain at the help of his shield, and he leans into him, body held up by broad chest and strong arms.      ❛  i know, i will.  ❜ 

                    he presses his face into his neck, arm looped around his shoulders and breathes in the smell of earth and sweat, his skin warm against his face.       ❛  i’m okay, gladio.  ❜

it’s with little adieu that he considers the weight of his position when he sets to tending noctis’ wounds, hands working with more delicacy than he’s ever displayed as his mind wanders further than he intends. gladiolus amicitia—  the king’s sworn shield in the place of a father far more assured than he. in his stead, noctis is far more reckless and brash;  decisions entirely too foolhardy when he doesn’t have the time to inform him, much less the others, of them. his body pays the price for his lack of attention, and gladiolus can blame no one but himself for the wounds he sustains  ( the wounds he seeks to heal, if he can ).  he’s always well within his reach, but with his ability, always just out of range for his blade to defend—  to cover him from enemies with the intent to maim and destroy him without even so much as the feeling of remorse. it’s a thought he dares not entertain, for as much as he is  KING  to him, noctis is also his  HEART,  and where he goes, so too would gladiolus follow.

he’s stolen from his mind’s meandering by the hands that cradle his face as if he were a priceless treasure;  something of value to be kept near and dear and not a tool to be disposed of when it had outlived its usefulness. it is this tender act that steals his breath and returns him once more to their current standing–  it is a side of him that he does not often see no matter how much he begs and screams that he should be honest with himself  ( for once, gladiolus breathes a sigh of relief that he never had to ask ).  he catches him off guard when fingers, gentle in their touch, run along the lengths of his scars,  DEMANDING  his attention without ever uttering a word. it’s freely given, especially since any words he’d once thought to say have fled far away when noctis directs those delicate caresses to the  UGLY,  astralforsaken welted scar that lies strewn across his body. it’s one he isn’t sure if he should wear with pride or with shame, but it’s one that remains regardless of either imposing faction. fingertips trace along its length with an elegance he’d never known had existed within noctis’ emotional repertoire, teasing him with the idea that such a grievous error as not having paid enough attention to the task at hand might be forgiven at just his touch. he even lets him snap his attention back into delicate features, eyes peering into his own as though he might find redemption there.

it’s there that his lips bestow their blessed affection to the mark gained when he proved the validity of his vows. never once had he wavered;  even in the face of challenges mightier than he ever dreamed. it does not go unnoticed, he knows, and his heart swells when it should be solid in its constitution. heat blossoms within the depths of his chest— a reminder of why his love had grown in its enormity. gladiolus leans back onto whatever solid mass his back faces, allowing noctis to take refuge in his own core warmth, smile settling while whatever hastened emotions dissipate as though they’d never surfaced.  ❝ i know, ❞  he mutters, arms all too carefully wrapping around his frame as a measure of keeping him close.  ‘ i love you, ‘  he thinks to say out loud, enough so that it’s clear and noctis knows beyond any doubt that this is why the lengths he would go through to keep him safe are so great. but he doesn’t.  ❝ i know. i just want you to be more careful. ❞

[shieldheir]

noct ⇁ astralheir:

                    though sleep tugs at him, he cannot help but drift in between as lips press to his forehead, pulling a small smile from him. soft hum of appreciation for the man who continues to shower him in affection, another inhale of a scent that is more home than any place he may have claimed before. its moments like these that he thanks luna for giving him reason to step beyond the threshold of the little flower shop, and inadvertently meeting the man that he would give up the world for. he might never have met gladio if not for her. flush spreads over his body as hands splay across his back; a feeling more possessive than probably intended makes his heart trip, breath to betray him in a hitch. if he could have his way, he would want gladio’s hands on him, always. but here, now, it was enough. he shifts, dragging himself enough from sleep to settle chin upon his chest and peer up into loving face. sleepy moan his return greeting as eyes, heavy with wanted sleep, close briefly. he fights between waking, to spend a day with him, or sleeping and wrapped in his embrace. both ensure that he is with him today, and that was all he desired.    ❛  more sleep.  ❜    murmured against his skin, lips brushing softly, and he leaves another kiss, inhaling deeply, before allowing himself to drift off once more. another reminder that he was blessed by this man ( for who would want to spend a day sleeping? ).

warmth spreads through his chest and over his body like wildfire;  a heat to match the one that noctis makes him feel when his only desire is to spend his day together doing everything and nothing at all. there is no equal—  no feeling to match the comfort gladiolus feels when his smaller form lies  plastered  atop his own  ( a display of trust if ever there was one ).  it’s such a natural state of being that he hardly remembers having to get used to it—  the days when he and noctis learned to accommodate one another when it came to  proximity. luckily for the pair of them, it hadn’t taken long to adjust to one another’s niches. it began with the way that noctis had taken his hand on their first date, seeking to lead him onward, to which gladio had kept his grasp within his own  ( he was well within his bounds for such an occasion, he thinks ).  thinking back, gladiolus doesn’t recall a time where seeking his hand or holding lither frame to his own had ever been unnatural—  it had always been welcomed and furthered, even.  looking at the  ever - tired  form dozing peacefully with arms wrapped around his body, he thanks whoever it was that made their meeting possible. without him, there was no true peace to be known;  no intrinsic familiarity with serenity. his sigh tumbles loose from his mouth, little gusto to be had so early in the morning.  ❝ any more and i’ll be dating a corpse, ❞  he laughs, nudging the stuble of his cheeks against softer ones in the hopes that sensation will rouse him enough to earn him that beloved smile he endlessly longs for.

❝ you really wanna sit in bed all day when there’s dates to be had? ❞  in truth, his resolve is weak enough this morning that he’d indulge either. the longer they linger here, the more enticing noctis’ eloquent suggestion was beginning to sound.  ❝ we can even get breakfast at your favorite place, ❞  and the words are muttered into his temple while his hands draw patterns into noctis’ back.

[shieldheir]

so recently i picked up ffxv for the first time and it’s a bit of an understatement to say that it has consumed me hahaha

[shieldheir]

-

Patreon | Ko-Fi

[shieldheir]

  ❛ ｔｈｅ ｓｔａｒｌｉｇｈｔ 

                             ｉ ｗｉｌｌ ｂｅ ｃｈａｓｉｎｇ ａ ｓｔａｒ ｌｉｇｈｔ    ❜

[shieldheir]

noct ⇁ astralheir:

                    ❛  don’t need it. just wanted to see if i could steal it.  ❜    smug, he does nothing to hide the smirk that tips his lips, satisfied that he had successfully taken the officer’s wallet. it hadn’t been his first thought when he spotted him, beautiful in his ruggedness, the sharp line of his jaw tempting, and the warmth of honey in his eyes. sweet, but whispering of a man with depths he was curious to know. never before had a stranger taken such hold on him, but he wanted to know more. the kiss had been unplanned, but he wouldn’t change his approach. it was perfect, subtle, teasing in its distraction and he could still feel the pressure of those lips against his, and oh he wanted more.

                    ❛  turns out it was easier than expected. doesn’t look very good for you, does it?  ❜

❝ tsk— ❞  arms fold neatly over his chest at the snideness of his query. he wasn’t wrong, but he’d burn before he admitted it;  never one to concede defeat so easily considering the circumstances. their kiss is one too fleeting not to leave his imagination roaming wildly when it had ended—  his lips are a praise he never knew he’d needed. he remembers the way he’d lingered a moment more, as if expecting gladio to say something to his detriment, but his mind is far too addled to think of anything remotely intelligible with which to respond, words dried up in the depths of his throat. the worst part, he thinks, is that he doesn’t even mind the fact that his wallet was stollen because it was this beautiful stranger who had done it.  ❝ looks just as bad that you’re stealing from cops in the first place. ❞  smooth, real smooth.

it wasn’t that good of a kiss, anyway, he’ll try in vain to convince himself.  ❝ is this your thing? seems like you’ve got it down. ❞

[shieldheir]

@astralheir  challenged me not to write that much :/

❝ are you serious? ❞  he’s absolutely astounded at the audacity he displays upon returning what’s rightfully his. it’s clear that there’s nothing moved out of place—  not even so much as a dime taken from inside the wallet that’s  ‘ graciously ‘  returned, but he’s left stunned all the same. why would he go out of his way to steal it only to return it to him without having taken anything? gladiolus doesn’t know if expressing gratitude will get this thieving stranger out of the habit of picking things off of him when he least expects it  ( especially with something as brazen as stealing a kiss in order to take it, no less ).  

❝ why would you even bother bringing this back? ❞

[shieldheir]

So yeah, gonna have to ask you to handle this boat business without me. Got some business of my own to deal with.

[shieldheir]

noct ⇁ astralheir:

                    and though it’s a step in a direction he had not anticipated to come, he was overwhelmingly happy. he and gladio had slowly come together, never quite discussing the weight of their relationship, but content to let it develop as it would. perhaps that was more his fault than anything; he had invaded gladio’s space like a weed, slowly growing through the cracks, and disrupting the foundations. clothes scattered about the apartment, food preferences stocked in the fridge and cabinets, and his toothbrush propped beside gladio’s. it was a subtle shift, one where he began to spend more time at gladio’s than his own place, leaving traces of himself behind, until suddenly sleeping at his place left him lonely, and unable to sleep. home was no longer his, but gladio’s place, one that he was slowly claiming, just as he had the man in his arms.

                    he wakes slightly, mind lazily realizing that strong arms were wrapped about him, tugging him close and pressed against firm chest, heartbeat strong against him. a moment of panic flashes before the familiar hands that lay flat against his stomach, just brushing skin and calloused from years working, tell him that gladio lies behind him. heart jumps beneath his chest, and he hums, sleepy, but happy and slowly turns in his arms until he’s facing him, and nuzzling into his chest. him being here tells him that he’s slept well past dinner, and that gladio has opted to skip it as well, in favor of lying here with him.

                    he’s touched by the thought, and his arm snakes over his waist as he pulls himself closer, hips to hips, his hand creeping up the back of his shirt to press flat against his warm skin as he tips head back to press lips soft to his jaw. he knows gladio will stir, always the light sleeper and he forces himself to stay awake long enough that he might hear gladio’s voice. he’s suddenly grateful he had used the key, for waking up to gladio was one of his favorite things in the world.

noctis was a disaster given human form;   a force strong enough to devastate, leaving all in his path wary and unsettled. while disaster he may be, gladio is always thankful for being swept beneath the riptide of his presence. never once had he thought that a single person could ever wriggle him free from  age - old  foundations, but the cold hands that encroach upon skin  too warm  from having settled in tell him otherwise. it is natural, he thinks, that he stays with him, noctis seeking comfort and warmth when every outside influence seeks to question and derail him from his daily meanderings—  he’s always the first to ask if gladio knows a smaller place suited for a more intimate gathering. he’ll always oblige, preferring the two of them over wandering eyes and mutters of,  ‘ is that..? ‘  there’s always a sense of pride that swells within his chest nonetheless;  noctis works hard both on set and off of it. it’s always endlessly satisfying to watch him be recognized for the emotion put forth into the characters he portrays, even if he doesn’t seem to think anything worth scoffing at. it’s also gratifying that he himself gets to see the sides of him that his audience never will—  just the thought makes a pleasant smile settle onto  day - worn  features.

❝ your hands are freezing, ❞  muttered into noctis’ forehead covered by the soft touch of his bangs,  ❝ is this how you’re gonna wake me up nowadays? ❞  it’s said without any real intention of brushing those hands aside, content to let them lie against his skin as if to warm themselves. he must dredge himself of the sleep’s welcoming call in favor of someone far more precious;  one who pulls at his heart with the softest  ( if not the most mischievous )  of smiles and the most tyrannical theft of his body heat that he never truly seems to mind. instead, he’ll give a thoughtful hum, body adjusting to accommodate the one that’s turned his way.   ❝ missed you today, ❞  another sleepy murmur when his eyes finally meet those that he often finds himself drowning within, the cool blue of his stare a cause for longing when he’s absent from his presence. 

surrounded by warmth is where he finds himself, enraptured by the irresistible feeling of being wanted as much as he wants—  his heart a steady thrum within a cage of bones whenever he huddles near. innate is the way his fingers stroke the small of his back, convinced that he is most himself when beloved is pressed close with the desire to simply be with him after a long day.   ❝ you have a nice nap? ❞

[shieldheir]

“Your hand looks heavy. Let me hold it for you.”

he nearly means to object, if not for the earnest way his proposition is aired—  modest, with a touch of fared affinity. it is something he most certainly does not expect, but will allow regardless of the way he must bite back laughter at his expense. it’s smooth, the way keith’s voice unveils the confidence he feels when his hand is extended to clasp his own. tenderness gleams in his request  ( demand ),  and gladiolus cannot help the grin that parts his lips enough to reveal brilliant teeth just because of a lame pick up line he cannot help but oblige. he’ll reach out to take the hand offered to him, his larger palm engulfing that of one much more dainty, but no less weathered. softened expression is worn in the wake of such an unexpected union, and he does not complain—  in fact, it’s welcomed that he should merit some gentility when the world crumbles beneath his feet. grip tightens without conscience, as if relinquishing his grip will cause a tumble into darkness. 

❝ i think yours might be a little too small.. ❞  it’s mused aloud as he purposely leans against keith’s smaller frame,  ❝ how ‘bout i hold yours instead? ❞                                                                 //  @lnstinctalone