#i think of seeing that train argument between gladio and noctis again and i get agida ...adzida...a... im european

[nebuvoid]

what will arrive first, my copy of ffx or ever crisis. the battle for my hand in marriage begins

[chasingfigments]

I cried about this fic all over again while trying to find this conversation 😭😭😭

Awww <3 It was a fun challenge to write, so I'm happy to hear it still has such an impact on you!

This argument between Noctis and Gladio really comes down to who is at fault and how much they are at fault for Noct's brush with death. Noctis, obviously, thinks it's his fault for not having the elixirs, flasks, etc. that would have allowed him to replenish his magic and made him able to finish the fight with less of a struggle. He also carries a HUGE amount of guilt for not carrying any phoenix downs on him--Prompto absolutely could have been permanently dead if it weren't for some stranger who did make sure she kept her allotted stock of magical supplies in order at all times.

Noctis sees this whole event as a failure of his own personal responsibility. Gladio and Ignis and plenty of others have gotten on his case before about Doing Things--and he doesn't always do them. And because of that, Prompto almost died. Other people did die. What if he'd had a phoenix down in the armiger as he should have? Could Valeria's then have been used on someone else? Could they have revived two people instead of just Prompto?

He won't ever know because he fucked up by not doing the simplest thing: being stocked up on healing items.

For Gladio, this whole event is a failure of duty. He should have made sure Noctis has all of the curatives he's supposed to at all times instead of just trusting Noctis to do that. He should have done a better job of training Noctis so that he could better fight against groups of people. The Crownsguard shouldn't have ever farmed out part of their security duties to other entities, no matter how much Noctis wanted a "normal life."

All of that, plus he saw Noctis almost die. There was absolutely nothing he could have done because Noctis was without trained support and Gladio was too far away to be of any use at all. This isn't some drunk being belligerent--Noctis nearly died. His friend, his brother, his charge he's pledged to die before. It is very safe to say that this whole thing just scared the shit out of Gladio, and he's furious with himself for everything that happened and for being scared.

Plus, Gladio just got a very ugly front row seat to his own decision making process, which meant deliberately deciding that Prompto should be put in harm's way for the smallest chance of buying Noctis time. And that temporarily cost Prompto his life. (And he's also furious at himself for that one moment of hesitation, in which Cor beat him to asking Prompto to help. He should have made the decision immediately and dealt with the horror of it later.)

So Noctis thinks he's at fault and wants Gladio to agree with him because getting reamed out by Gladio will momentarily satiate his budding survivor's guilt. Meanwhile, Gladio has fucked up on several more levels and definitely believes he deserves whatever criticism and fury results from this event. These two tend to butt heads disastrously in canon, and they both kind of--just seek each other out for a mutually self-destructive moment.

[berrydoodleoo]

big bro gladio

This was just supposed to be a few quick headcanons? Instead it’s a fic. Less dialogue and action than I usually put in my fics, but eh. Anyway, have my thoughts about Gladio and his relationships growing up.

***

Like Noct, Gladio has spent his life on guard against false friends.

When he was seven, his dad pulled him aside after weapons training. “I don’t want you hanging out with that boy Lycus anymore,” he said, apropos of nothing as far as Gladio could tell. 

Shocked and angry, Gladio pestered him for an explanation, and eventually Dad said it was ‘a potential security issue’. Gladio spent hours trying to visualize how Lycus could be a threat to him -- Gladio was bigger and stronger, Lycus was hilarious and fast on the field but had no combat training whatsoever -- when he realized that wasn’t the point at all. Lycus could be a threat to Noctis. And as ever, anything that happened to Gladio was actually about someone else instead.

He imagined that his Dad had caught Lycus doing something when he stayed over. Going through his office, maybe, or trying to get into the weapons cabinet. He doesn’t mean to, but somehow the rest of the class turns against Lycus as well, and he stops speaking up in class, stops being funny and starts being mean. But not to Gladio; Gladio doesn’t talk to him anymore. As ordered.

Later, he learned that Lycus’ dad was in an argument with the King about infrastructure development in his district. That was all it was.

It’s not that he doesn’t forgive his father -- there are lots of things he’ll never forgive him for, but he’s learned to live with them -- it’s that he’ll never stop resenting him for it. Hating him, for making Gladio an instrument of his thoughtless cruelty.

~

It’s not that he envies Noct. Yeah, Gladio has to guard him, but Noct also has to guard himself, all in preparation for his future as the King. And Gladio has seen how the King lives.

Early in his training, he spent a lot of time trailing his Dad around, just seeing how things worked. After Noct’s thirteenth birthday, the press suddenly shifted their attention from the Prince (who they speculated about wildly -- was he doing well in school? Did he have friends, a girlfriend, post-traumatic stress disorder? Did he cry at his mother’s grave every year?) to the King. Was he planning to remarry?

Remarry? The King?

Gladio wasn’t sure where the question came from, but when it hit, it hit everywhere. Every state banquet was suddenly an opportunity for photos of the King and his conversation partners, accompanied by endless speculation about what that smile meant, that hand shake, that choice of drink, or tie, or watch, and so on. If the person they targeted didn’t answer their questions, they became the target of even more speculation. It wasn’t just the gutter press, either. Gladio turned on the TV at prime time one day and was shocked to see an hour-long special about the King, his courtship and marriage with the Queen, and the potential legal issues surrounding his (rumored) remarriage. They were going to have a special segment about the Prince, with a psychologist to talk about step-families and trauma.

Gladio turned it off, feeling voyeuristic. Everyone in the Citadel was tense after that, bristling with rage, but there was nothing they could do about any of it.

Gladio, in his role as his father’s obedient shadow, was also made privy to a top-level conversation on the topic between Clarus, Cor, and Drautos. Some of the figures pursued by the press had merely been caught in the crossfire, they concluded. Others were attempting to use the publicity to their advantage, which was not a problem for their offices. A few, maybe, had real aims on the King, and ‘love’ didn’t seem to be an option they even considered. Clarus ordered thorough security checks and surveillance on the biggest names, and the whole thing made Gladio sick.

But it didn’t end there. A few weeks later, to Gladio’s horror, the Council had their own version of this discussion, this time with a political slant. All directly in front of the King himself. His Majesty didn’t seem perturbed by the discussion -- he exchanged a Glance with his Shield, but remained otherwise unreadable -- and yet Gladio burned with embarrassment and indignation for him.

~

So as much as Gladio resents Noct sometimes, he also pities him. And so he guards himself, socializes carefully, makes friends among the children of his father’s associates, and never gets too close to anyone.

In high school, he falls in love once, and he’s too busy with dates that ended in making out and heavy petting to notice at first. When he did, he broke it off immediately, cited some excuse about his duties and his dad not thinking the relationship was a good idea. All he could think about was getting away, getting away, getting away. When he got home, his heart was still pounding, and he checked all the locks and codes twice. Was he scared, or guilty?

When they told him they’d confronted his father, his heart stopped. He was certain he was about to be caught in his lie. But the rambling, teary argument that followed revealed that Clarus had been sympathetic but firm, and had invented a completely false conversation to back up Gladio’s falsehoods. 

Afterwards, he never brought it up with his son, and Gladio never asked.

~

After high school, in the Crownsguard, Gladio makes a new set of friends. Many of them are older than him and worldly in ways he isn’t. They have their own routines, which Gladio is indoctrinated in. The whole idea of ‘friends with benefits’ was a pretty sweet deal, he felt, especially since these ‘friends’ often went out on assignment afterwards and he never had to see them again.

(Except Ignis. They only hook-up once -- okay, twice -- or maybe three times -- but they don’t talk about it. More than the weapons training or survival courses, it’s the most dangerous thing they’ve ever done.)

At the same time, fifteen-year-old Noct makes his first friend. Prompto. Weird kid, goofy, but likeable. Not cool, really, but then, neither is Noctis. They spend their time goofing around, playing video games and doing homework. Unlike Gladio’s ‘friends’, Prompto stayed, and Gladio was happy for it. Noct needed a friend.

Not like Gladio. Gladio didn’t need anything.

~

During his training with the Kingsglaive, Gladio developed a reputation of sorts. He was known for taking people on flashy dates to exclusive clubs (getting in was effortless, for him), hooking up, and then moving on. All perfectly friendly and above board. He worked himself to exhaustion all week, spent most of his weekend in bed with someone new, and went back to the routine again on Monday. Never the same person twice.

His peers admired him for it. His Dad asked a few questions, and when Gladio snapped, he backed off with a scowl. Iris … Gladio convinced himself she didn’t know what was happening.

Noct and Prompto started dating then, too. It was a terrible idea, and Gladio knew it, but it was clear the kids were in love and besides, he’d seen how the King lived. How Noct would one day live. Hell, he was already half-inside the bubble anyway. He covered for them, even from Ignis for a while (and boy did Ignis give him shit for that), and then he and Ignis covered for them together.

It was good. Nothing was missing, everything was in its place. It was good.

~

When the treaty discussions start up, Gladio ends his dalliances with his fellow Glaives and ‘Guard members. He needs to be focused. No holes in his, and thus in Noct’s, security; no gaps someone could wriggle their way through. It’s easier than he thought it would be. He takes up reading to fill his sudden spare time.

Before the betrothal is announced, Prompto and Noct stop … doing whatever they’d been doing. Noct called it ‘hooking up’, but couldn’t quite pull off the lie. Prompto started training with the Crownsguard, and Gladio had to stand by and watch Prompto run, face-first, into the same hook-up culture he’d just left behind. It was different, from this angle. He didn’t like that Prompto was getting off with people he didn’t know. He didn’t like how they didn’t care about him, how they used bad pickup lines and groped him in public. How they didn’t know about his photos, or his parents, or the kitchen scale on his counter, or his obsessive knowledge about calorie counts and chocobos.

They didn’t love Prompto, but Noct did. From a distance. The kid had turned into a good actor at some point

Prompto got pulled into the wash cycle of hook-ups and break-ups fast enough, but Noct continued on alone. More and more his eyes came to resemble panes of glass, from which something shadowy and mute peered out in silence.

~

After Altissa, Gladio starts sleeping beside Ignis. Just sleeping. They end up spooned together most of the time, Gladio at Ignis’s back, looking out into the darkness that Ignis can’t see. Guarding him from it. Ignis is weird, strangely muted and palpably discouraged, but he clutches back at Gladio as hard as Gladio clutches him.

~

In Zegnautus Keep, Gladio wakes one morning to see Noct and Prompto talking. They know he’s up and moving, their conversation soft and halting behind him. He hears when they fall into a kiss, and stays turned away, giving them their privacy. His face is burning but he’s also amused, a little heartsick, and quietly happy for them.

It’s the last morning the four of them will have together, although they don’t know it yet. Further in the Keep, the crystal and the darkness are waiting. Even further in the distance, a blood-stained dawn calls their names.

~

As they set out into the Keep again, Noct pauses and looks at him. At Gladio. His eyes are full of questions and uncertainty, like a kid who needs to hear that everything will be okay. That he’s done everything right.

“What?” Gladio asks, confused.

Noct just sighs. “Nothing.”

Gladio stares at his downturned face a moment longer, trying to figure him out. He doesn’t think he’s done anything to make him mad. 

“All right,” Gladio says finally -- dubiously -- and without another word, he leads the way.

[glon-morski]

FF XV - the missing reconciliation post chapter 10

Alright, everyone who has ever played FFXV knows the game’s not perfect. Whether you love it or hate it, the game has some issues you can’t just pretend not to see. I personally adore the game, but that doesn’t mean I wave away its issues. Especially not the glaring ones, like the story-telling, which really could use some work at times, what with all the ‘missing scenes that should be there’, the plot holes and stuff.

One such moment of ‘atrocious story-telling’, as is widely accepted as fact by fans and haters alike, is in the second half of the game: the rather infamous chapter 10 and the chapters that follow. For context reminder, chapter 10 of FFXV’s story is right after the catastrophe that is the covenant with Leviathan in Altissia. It’s the chapter about Cartanica, the chapter where our four main characters (and friends) are at odds with each other, treating each other to stony silences unless they’re arguing, the latter being especially the case of Noctis and Gladio, with Gladio throwing a few quite vicious comments Noctis’s way. With everything that happened right before, the character dynamics in this chapter really hit hard. By the end of the chapter, Ignis has had enough and snaps, telling basically everyone off for being at each other’s throats during a time when they should be more united than ever. And after that… things pretty much go back to normal in the group. Which is all well and good, except for one thing. The arguing, and Gladio’s vicious attitude especially, may come a little out of nowhere, but it’s still understandable if one puts just a little thought into it. Noct is grieving Luna’s death and blaming himself both for the fact she died and likely also Ignis’s blindness, he’s overwhelmed by his emotions which cause him to shut himself off emotionally. Gladio is feeling guilty, too. He is Noctis’s Shield and it is his duty to protect him, with his life if he has to. But he hasn’t been there to protect him after Leviathan was dealt with and Ignis did his job for him, getting severely injured in the process. That shouldn’t have happened. In Gladio’s mind, Noctis either should have been strong enough to not need Ignis to protect him (and making him able to defend himself is Gladio’s job as well, since he’s been training Noct since he was a kid), or Gladio should have been there to protect him instead of Ignis. But he wasn’t. He had failed as a Shield and he’s reminded of that fact and the guilt that comes with it every time he looks at Ignis or Noct. And Gladio had always covered up his negative emotions, guilt included, with anger. So he lashes out. It comes a bit out of nowhere and takes some thought to understand, but it’s not something that can’t be figured out.

The sudden shift back from the end of chapter 10 to chapter 11, however, is less acceptable and as far as I know, everyone was saying how the reconciliation was poorly handled and there should have been at least a short scene where Gladio apologizes to Noct, if nothing else. A scene where they talk it out, where the argument actually gets closure and we can believe the characters move on. We don’t get any of that, though, and it’s apparently a ‘narrative nightmare’, which is likely the main reason there are so many ‘missing scene’ fanfics out there that attempt to rectify it, to write a fitting scene that could actually connect the character’s attitudes from the end of chapter 10 to chapters 11-13. And honestly, for the longest time, I agreed with that assessment, because there really should be a proper reconciliation scene.

Unless there shouldn’t be. Unless it’s not a ‘narrative issue’ this time, but something that has been done on purpose. Because what if… Please consider, what if Noctis and his crew didn’t actually properly make up before the end of chapter 13 and Noct’s ten-year-long absence?

Hear me out.

I) “Guys Don’t Talk About Feelings”

Fair point, and it does stand to reason considering what we see in the game. Noctis is the kind to clam up and he doesn’t talk easily, Gladio and Ignis pretend they don’t feel much of anything (except anger in Gladio’s case) and Prompto hides everything behind his happy-go-lucky joker mask. So yeah, a valid assumption to make. Except that it’s not true, because there are instances where the boys talk about feelings and Noct in particular is willing to have these kinds of conversations, even if he doesn’t always (or ever) initiate them. Proof in the game itself include:

- the talk with Prompto when you sleep at a motel and he ends up opening up about his insecurities. Sure, you can have Noct answer in an absolutely dickish manner and conform to the stereotype, but the game rewards you for having Noct listen to his friend, take him seriously and reassure him, which in all honesty sounds a lot more like Noct to me anyway. Sure, the guy can be a bit standoffish at times, particularly in the anime, but there’s no denying he cares and he’d never be a dick to his friends on purpose.

- post-credit scene of Episode Ignis, where Ignis is the one to open up a little (he opens the conversation with a broken ‘we have lost so much’, you can’t tell me the entire exchange isn’t driven by emotion even if part of it is Ignis testing Noct’s resolve) and offers Noctis to abandon their journey. Noctis refuses.

- post-credit scene of Episode Prompto, when Noctis properly apologizes to Prompto over what happened on the train and reconciles with him before they talk about ‘uniting all of Eos’ so no one has to suffer like Prompto has simply because they happened to be born in a different country.

So no, the boys do talk about feelings. Maybe not often and maybe not always as extensively as some would prefer, but they do talk about it when it really matters. Most of the time.

II) Chapter 11 Loading Screen

As FFXV is wont to do, instead of showing us stuff to connect chapters of the story together, we get loading screens with a short text, so more of a ‘tell not show’ approach. Which is a shame, but in this particular instance, it works to my advantage as far as analyzing stuff goes. Here’s the loading screen in question:

This is a peculiar word choice, isn’t it? ‘Ignis’s resolve forces a reconciliation’. Correct me if I’m wrong, but you can’t actually force a reconciliation. It doesn’t work that way. You can force two people to stop arguing all the time, maybe, but you can’t force them to see eye-to-eye, you can’t force them to apologize and mean it, you can’t force them to make up. Ignis’s words and resolve could and definitely did force Noctis and Gladio to see how stupid they were being, how they shouldn’t be divided at this point in time… but it can’t force them to forgive and forget. Especially if you consider Gladio’s reactions.

After Ignis’s outburst, he’s still angry. He doesn’t outwardly agree with allowing Ignis to come along, but he also doesn’t bite back at his words how it’s not up to Gladio to decide when Noctis will take up the mantle as king properly. He shuts his mouth and storms off. And that the last interaction we get before the ‘normalcy’ at the beginning of chapter 11, before Gladio and Ignis go off.

At this point in time, I’m pretty sure Gladio hasn’t actually apologized. Hell, I’m persuaded he doesn’t actually think he was out of line that much. Nothing that Ignis said would have made him realize just how much of an ass he’s been. Ignis told him off for pushing Noct for something he’s not ready for and reminded him it’s not up to Gladio to decide when he will be, whether they have the time to wait for him to be ready or not. Gladio doesn’t agree with that precisely because they don’t have the time and Noct has to act like the king he’s supposed to be. Still, Ignis’s words do make him realize the way he’s been pushing is (at least in part) the reason for the growing rift between the four of them and he agrees they can’t afford in-fighting, so he backs off. A little. He’s still a bit confrontational when they go back to the train, but doesn’t lash out quite as badly anymore. I mean, look at his response when Noct actually asks if they can make a stop in Tenebrae (for the first time actually mentioning wanting to, as far as we’re aware). Gladio’s answer is a flat ‘as long as it helps him move on.’ It’s not understanding, it’s not supporting, it’s more ‘fine, if it gets your ass in gear, we can do it’, but said in a less dickish manner. He doesn’t agree to the stop in Tenebrae because he cares for Noct’s feelings, he agrees as a means to an end – Ignis won’t get on his case again and Noctis will (hopefully) ‘pull his head out of his ass’. In short, Gladio is less confrontational, but his mindset clearly hasn’t changed much if at all. He doesn’t act like he thinks he should apologize, either, so it would be no stretch to assume that he simply doesn’t. He acts like his earlier attitude never happened instead and Noctis follows his lead on it. (Or maybe Noctis is the one who starts and Gladio follows his lead, both are likely.) In fact, the first (and only) moment where it might seem like Gladio actually realizes he may have gone too far only happens in chapter 13 Verse 2, when they find the recording of how Ravus died. Gladio remarks that Ravus ‘even called Noctis “his king”’, then lowers his head and stares at the ground for a bit. Don’t know about you, but the posture he adopts looks kind of ashamed to me. Which makes sense, because this is Ravus. The guy who has been going on and on about how Noctis is undeserving of his title as Chosen King, or the Ring, or his father’s glaive or Luna’s help, and he openly admits Noctis is ‘his king’, the Chosen King. He sees a king where Gladio hasn’t and I think that really resonated with him and made him realize just how overboard he’s gone. Because how can it be that a man who used to think Noct unworthy of his title as Chosen sees him as the King he is before even his Shield does? Gladio is supposed to be one of Noct’s closest confidants, the one he trusts most, the one to keep him upright when he can’t stand up, the one to focus when Noct can’t etc. etc. Being a Shield is a difficult duty, but it also means being extremely close to the King, it means he should know him well enough to see things others don’t, he should always be supporting and protecting him. And yet Ravus, of all people, saw what Gladio had failed to see in that instance: that Noct already is king and he is acting the part to the best of his abilities. Ravus believed in Noctis more than his own Shield did. And it’s in that instant, I think, that Gladio truly realized he’s crossed a line (or several lines) and that while he might have had a point in there somewhere, he went the entirely wrong way about making it. In that singular instant, he feels a brief moment of shame and actually realizes he might need to apologize at some point, I think. But they’re in Zegnautus Keep, in the middle of enemy territory and Noctis isn’t even with them, so a heart-to-heart obviously will have to wait for a better time.

Furthermore, there’s the bit how through ‘forcing a reconciliation’, Ignis’s resolve ‘restores harmony to the group’. Another curious choice of words there. If they had really made up properly, couldn’t it be ‘restores the bonds between the four friends’ or something like that? Something more telling that things are actually ok again, that they’ve made up and everything is well? Instead it’s just ‘restores harmony’, which doesn’t really mean much beyond ‘gets rid of the discord’, meaning Noctis and Gladio simply stop fighting. But it doesn’t mean they’ve actually made up, that they’re back to how they’ve been before Altissia. They aren’t. But for the sake of ‘harmony’, they act like they do. After all, ‘a king moves ever forward’ and his Shield is supposed to be by his side, come Hell or high water, right?

III) Game-Play-Story-Integration

Out of all the games I’ve played, Final Fantasy XV is still the one with the best and most extensive game-play-story-integration I’ve ever seen. From the fighting system to the quips between the bros to how the AI acts in combat in certain parts of the story, the attention to detail is unreal. It is especially noticeable in chapter 10, not only because of how Ignis always stays behind for obvious reasons, but also how Prompto never strays from his side or the way Gladio only goes half-way after Noct if the player goes on ahead (though not without bitching about ‘staying together’). It’s also visible in combat.

So… let’s look a bit at the game-play of chapters 11, 12 and 13, when the boys have supposedly been forced to make up, shall we?

Chapter 11 – we get a short cut-scene with Ignis and Gladio where they talk about gathering some information about the going-ons in Tenebrae and Gralea. Noctis is attentive, but still rather subdued. Gladio acts mostly like his normal, confident self. No discord in sight… but also no true unity if you ask me. Ignis and Gladio leave soon after. Noctis doesn’t try to stop them or follow them and neither of them attempt to make him. In fact, no one comments on his lackluster attitude at all and while that’s better than the fighting from before, it doesn’t actually look like a group of three friends, more just three men working together because they’re supposed to. Ignis may just be trying to give Noctis time to grieve properly, it’s what he’s been doing for the entirety of chapter 10 as well all while dealing with his own problems, but Gladio just simply pretends he doesn’t see it. He doesn’t give an indication it bothers him in any way, not in terms of making him angry or worried or anything. He just pretends not to see and lets it roll off his back.

And that’s it for Ignis and Gladio. We don’t see either of them for the rest of the chapter. We don’t see much of Prompto, either, because Ardyn decides to switch places with him. We get one little fight together with fake!Prompto but other than that, throughout the chapter and the fighting on the train, Noctis is alone.

Chapter 12 – it doesn’t actually get better. The chapter starts in Tenebrae station, which counts as an outpost and thus a safe place. You can opt to just follow the other characters and advance the story by talking with everyone you need to talk to, but you can also explore the station first to gather some items and, in the Royal Edition, to gather almanac entries. Now, in any other outpost or city in the game, while there might have been short moments where Ignis, Gladio and Prompto wandered off and behaved a bit like curious NPCs, they always followed Noct once he got a certain distance away. For the entirety of the game up until Altissia, you hardly had any moment when they didn’t follow Noct unless it was story-dictated that they didn’t. That’s not the case in Tenebrae. There’s no real reason for them to remain ‘in NPC mode’ if you decide to explore the station, but they do. They don’t follow Noctis at all. Once again, he’s alone and he remains that way even once they’re on board the train even though Ignis and Gladio are technically still part of the party (you can see their HP bars and stuff).

Once again, much like with fake!Prompto in the previous chapter, we get a fight where the three men fight together. But once it’s over? Gladio calls Noctis to ‘come and see something’, then doesn’t wait for him to follow. The next thing we know, Noct is encountering Ardyn and Shiva and once again, he is alone. At any other point in the game, no matter what was happening, Ignis and Gladio did everything they could to stand by his side – figuratively as much as literally by being physically there. But in this chapter, they don’t. Even post Shiva, when Noctis tells them to go check on the front of the train, they both do without complaint. Noctis is on his knees, half-frozen like they are and he very clearly still looks out of it, but neither of them protests being send away despite the fact that Gladio could have checked on the drivers alone and Ignis could remain with Noct without issue to make sure he’s alright (or so they could both make sure the other is alright). But that’s not what happens.

After Shiva, we get another short cut-scene as the train reaches Gralea and demons pop up while Noctis and co. realize they’re weaponless. Noctis is so shell-shocked by that discovery that he almost takes a Goblin’s claws to the chest, but Gladio pulls him back and kicks the demon away. He protects Noctis. He does his job as a Shield. Noct’s reaction? A split second of relief before he tries for a grin and briefly compliments Gladio’s blow, visibly trying to loosen up, to act normal. That split second of relief is really telling, though, because it implies he might not have expected for Gladio to act. He might have worried he wouldn’t help him. Which he has reason for as apparently, in chapter 10, if Noct happens to be caught by an enemy (you know, that button-mashing moment to get free), Gladio’s AI apparently doesn’t even try to help. I say apparently because I didn’t get the chance to test it on my new play-through, I was on NG+ and over-leveled to Hell, so the characters could one-shot-kill everything long before one stray enemy could grab on to Noct for me to test that. But assuming this little bit of game-play-story-integration is true, it would make sense considering Gladio’s general attitude in chapter 10. Still, we’re talking about chapter 12 now, where the boys have supposedly reconciled, so… why would Noct worry about whether or not Gladio would help him if he needed it? Why would he be relieved when Gladio simply did his job? If they’ve actually made up, then he has no reason to worry or be surprised and relieved about it, right?

Chapter 13 – I don’t think I need to say much about that one. Zegautus Keep. Noctis is separated from his friends for most of it and is once again alone. Nothing more needs to be said on that front. Except maybe one thing. There are two points in the chapter where Noctis has to leave his friends behind. One in the hangar towards the end, when he’s about to reach the Crystal. He hesitates then, looks back once he’s gotten through the closing door, but moves on. The other is way at the beginning of the chapter, when Noct gets separated from Ignis and Gladio by the collapsing train. Not only does he not hesitate to run and leave them behind then (understandable, as he’s surrounded by daemons and unarmed), but he also doesn’t wait for them once he’s in the Keep. That first room he’s in is huge and open and you can see there aren’t that many daemons prowling about. Noctis had locked the door behind him and since the Goblins haven’t broken it down before, there’s no reason they would now. Ignis and Gladio are still out there and Noctis should probably assume they’d try to follow him or find a different way in. So… why does he go on alone? Why doesn’t he wait? Or at least call/text them to see what their plan is so they can agree to try and regroup somehow? In fact, for the entirety of this chapter, why doesn’t Noct try to contact Ignis or Gladio once? His phone still works as far as we know even though he’s no longer in Lucis, chapter 12 proved that when Ignis called him after Noct pushed Prompto off the train. So why don’t they even attempt to communicate when, as far as we know, they have the means to?

I don’t know about you, but for a part of the game where the three of them are supposed to be tight-knit once again and have supposedly made up, the story and game-play goes way out of its way to contradict it by ensuring Noctis is alone at nearly all times, when the normal behavior of all of his friends is to stick close to him at any given time, be it for running around the wilderness, combat or even exploring a safe outpost. And when Noctis’s normal behavior is to try to stick with them, too, and yet in these chapters (and chapter 13 in particular) he goes out of his way to not do that.

IV) Friends And Retainers In One

There’s a very specific part of chapter 13 that really stuck out to me on my latest play-through. Once you reunite with Ignis and Gladio, find Prompto and finally get your weapons back, the boys have their one (ONE!) on-the-field conversation in the entire chapter. Where before Altissia they constantly quipped at each other and you had those short conversations once every couple minutes, this is basically the only piece of dialogue outside of a cut-scene you get this entire chapter (Ardyn’s taunting notwithstanding).

It starts with Prompto pointing out that Noctis is wearing (and using) the Ring of the Lucii. Noctis response is a rather bland ‘I had to. No weapons. No friends. No choice, really’ and goes on to say how he had to find and save the rest of them and for that he had to be able to fight so he had to use the ring. This entire 5-second-explanation is delivered in a low, kinda dead tone, too. There’s barely any inflection to it, let alone any sort of emotion. He just sounds tired and wrung out and completely done with it all. The one who responds is Gladio… with a comment along the lines of ‘you finally sound like a King’ with a ‘took you long enough’ heavily implied if not stated outright. Noctis doesn’t respond to that and neither does anyone else. Once again, it does not sound like an exchange between friends. It sounds more like what a Shield would say to his King.

And that’s exactly what’s going on, isn’t it? What has been going on since chapter 10, actually. In the aftermath of Altissia, Gladio pulled back from everyone, but Noctis in particular. He was no longer his friend, he was his Shield, through and through.

Now, Ignis and Gladio always had some trouble with navigating their relationship with Noct because of its duality between being his retainers and being his friends, something the game touches upon a little (though it’s way better portrayed in the Brotherhood anime). Ignis has more trouble with it, though, because in his case, the line between friend and retainer is extremely blurred and it’s easy to fall from one into another seamlessly and without noticing. From chapter 10 onward, though, while Ignis tried to keep some ‘friend’ aspects to his demeanor, he still acts more like an advisor. This is likely due as much to the fact that he wants to prove to everyone (himself included) that he isn’t a burden and can keep going with them, as it is to Noct needing a little advisory needling to stay on course and not fall back into his apathetic behavior from earlier.

In Gladio’s case, the line is a lot more cut and dry and easy to distinguish. There’s a clear difference between Gladio the Friend and Gladio the Shield. During chapter 10, Gladio is only a Shield. A retainer to his King. Not a friend. Which is part of why he’s so vicious in his comments. During chapters 11-13, he dials it back more and more, but still stays more on the side of ‘Shield’ than ‘Friend’.

The only person who doesn’t have that struggle is Prompto, because while part of the Crownsguard, he’s still Noct’s friend first and foremost. But he’s absent from chapter 11 onwards. So for most of chapters 10-13, Noct is alone. It’s a moment in time when he lost too much too quickly and he desperately needs a friend to help him, but he doesn’t get that. He can’t go to Ignis because he feels like Ignis has enough of his own problems to deal with, he doesn’t want to burden Prompto who’s already very clearly stressed by the situation in general and tries to help where he feels most useful (with Ignis) and he only has an angry Shield in Gladio, not a friend. All that game-play I pointed out earlier where Noctis is suspiciously alone? That’s a show of how he feels as much as the physical situation of it. He is alone when he’s separated from his companions and he feels alone even when they’re there. Because the ones following him now are not his friends, they’re his retainers and he’s not supposed to be Noct the Person, but Noctis the King.

Going back to that little piece of dialogue I mentioned earlier, well, it’s not part of a cut-scene, so we don’t really get much in terms of clues to interpret the characters’ feelings besides the voice acting. There’s no expression and little body language to go by. But the fact that Gladio’s comment is met with silence from Noct is already very telling. To me, it feels like he’s looking for at least a little comfort from them. He’s looking for reassurance from his friends. He’s been alone, unarmed, basically at daemons’ mercy and had no choice but to put on the ring everyone saw he could hardly bring himself to look at, much less wear. I wouldn’t be surprised if the answer he was looking to get then was something as simple as ‘you’re not alone or defenseless now, it’ll be ok, we’re here with you’ or something like that. Instead, what he gets is a comment about how ‘he finally acts like a king’ from the person who has been raving on him for not being ‘kingly’ enough the most before.  And I think that might sort of cement it for him (like it also sort of does for the player): he isn’t surrounded by friends at this moment in time, no matter how desperately he wants and needs it, even if they share some friendly banter in a cut-scene or two before that. He’s surrounded by retainers and he has to be their King, no matter how impossible it seems for him to do that.

And then, of course, the icing on the cake: getting sucked into the Crystal. Noctis is alone at that point as well, barring Ardyn. By the time Gladio and the others catch up, he’s already disappeared.

Here comes the kicker: Gladio, Ignis and Prompto proceed to attack Ardyn and try to kill him… and it’s honestly the first proper show of emotion all three of them have since chapter 11 that actually proves they care for Noct as a person, not just a king. They act like they lost not a king, but a dear friend and they’re understandably angry because of that. Which is heartbreaking because it happens at a point in time when Noctis can’t see it anymore. Just as the three of them were too late to see Noctis get sucked into the Crystal (and maybe try and fail to stop it from happening), they were too late in dropping the façade of retainer and act like Noct’s friends instead. (Again, with the exception of Prompto, because he doesn’t have that issue.)

It’s doubly heartbreaking when you consider Regis’s last order to them, too. ‘I ask not that you guide my wayward son. Merely that you remain at his side.’ Which is really just a fancy way of saying ‘I don’t want you to accompany him as his retainers, I want you to be his friends.’ No one seems to catch on to that, however, and when shit truly hits the fan, they do the exact opposite instead.

V) Reconciliation

Finally, one last point, tying somewhat to point I to finish this entire word vomit off. As we all know, there is no reconciliation scene between the four friends in the game, a fact that has been very bemoaned by fans. That’s just it, though. There’s no reconciliation scene between the four of them or at between Noct and Gladio… but there is one (even two) between Noctis and Prompto! In the main game, once you find Prompto in Zegnautus, he asks Noct if he was worried about him. Noct can respond with a choked up ‘of course I was… what kind of question is that?’ or try to tease and act like all is normal (the second one backfires slightly) but in both cases, it’s followed by an apology, which Prompto accepts and responds to with ‘everything is alright now’. It’s not perfect, but there was an apology, there was forgiveness, there was understanding and closure and actual reconciliation. If that’s not enough for you, Episode Prompto adds the post-credit scene I already mentioned above.

So, we do get a proper reconciliation between Noctis and Prompto. But not between Noctis and Gladio. Or Noctis and Ignis, considering they should have really talked about how Noct feels guilty for Ignis’s injury, too, in my opinion, even if they haven’t really fought or anything. There’s still a kind of rift there. Which means Noct reconciles on-screen with one friend out of three. You really think the developpers would make one scene and then ‘leave out’ or ‘forget’ another? I find that hard to believe.

In conclusion

As many narrative and story-telling issues as FFXV may have, I honestly don’t believe the lack of a proper reconciliation between Noctis and Gladio (or Noctis and Ignis if you think they need one) is one of them. It looks far more like it has been done on purpose, because while they both try to act like they’re good and everything is back to normal, the fact of the matter is that it’s probably not true. They’re still at odds and Gladio only really realizes he might have gone too far in Zegnautus, but at that point, he doesn’t really get a chance to talk with Noct before the latter disappears for ten years into the Crystal. Which would mean the two of them never actually made up between chapter 10 and the end of chapter 13. This fight of theirs remained unresolved until it was too late to do anything about it, something that gives Gladio even more reason to attack Ardyn as savagely as he does in the Crystal’s chamber. Because he can finally admit to himself that maybe he was a bit out of line and he probably wanted to talk it out with Noctis, maybe even wanted to apologize, but in the end, he never got the chance.

Then ten years pass during which Noctis is in Reflection and Gladio gets to live through the World of Ruin while waiting and hoping for his king to come back. Ten years is a freakishly long time to not see a dear friend of yours and bringing up a fight you never got to get closure over after that much time is just not something people do. Especially since it’s a post-apocalyptic world and they have world saving to do… and Noctis knows he’ll die. He likely doesn’t want to bring up the painful past at that point because really, what would be the point? He already has very little time left as it is. Best try to use it to have at least a semblance of happiness in what’s essentially his last moments with his friends. As for Gladio, after stewing over it for ten years, a part of him might need to talk it out, to get proper closure, but if Noctis prefers to pretend it never happened and that everything was fine, then who is Gladio to begrudge him that in what’s essentially his last moments? In that regard, I feel like Gladio’s character made a complete one-eighty in chapter 14 (and I’m obviously only looking at the original chapter 14, not the additions the Royal Edition made because those feel tacked-on and like you’re playing a mesh-up of two different time-lines, but that’s a rant for another time). Where in chapters 10-13 he was nothing but a Shield, in chapter 14, he tries to be a friend more than a Shield, though he obviously still takes his duties seriously.

TL;DR: There are many details in the game that seem to point to the conclusion that the lack of a proper reconciliation between Gladio and Noctis post chapter 10 was on purpose. That they never actually made up and that while their bond didn’t break, it suffered some serious damage, which shows clearly in later chapters. That Gladio realized he might have gone too far a little too late and that by the time he was planning on sitting Noct down and talking things out with him and apologizing once things calmed down, it was a lost cause because he lost his chance the moment Noct was sucked into the Crystal without any indication if or when he’d come back out. Which is honestly depressing and heartbreaking, but at the same time, looking at character interactions and stuff, it makes a sad amount of sense.

[alternatewarning]

Darkness, Bathed in Blood - Whumptober 2020 Fic

Entry Number 27 (alternate prompt) and 30 for Whumptober 2020: Presumed Dead and Ignoring an Injury

Title: Darkness, Bathed in Blood Fandom: Final Fantasy XV Pairing: None Rating: T Triggers: Gore, torture Summary: Darkness has fallen on the whole of Eos -- fear always brings out the worst in people. A group of terrified citizens capture Ignis to try and find out where the crystal is and lift the darkness but no matter what he will not falter.

Cross posed to Ao3

It was impossible to determine how many days had passed like this, trapped. Outside the entire world was bathed in constant darkness, there was no reset signaling the start of a new day. Ignis thought that he had been here for about five days, but that was an estimate at best. There was no cycle, nothing to indicate when one day started and the next began. The group of people holding him seemed to arrive at random times and in random groups. So far he could pick out six distinct voices, two women, three men, and one more that he suspected was also male but they were quite young and their voice was quite high.

They would arrive in groups from two to six and then take turns. Sometimes they beat him, sometimes they cut at his skin with what he could only assume were knives. They often asked pointed questions in between the pain but they were asking less and less. They were probably figuring out that he wasn’t going to give them any answers. He had no idea who they were or what they wanted.

Clearly, the small group was ill-informed. They had bound his hands up in a chain, leaving just enough slack for him to stand, legs bound, with his arms held over his head. They had also tied a blindfold over his eyes which told him that they had no idea what they were doing. It was well known among the hunters that he was, for all intents and purposes, completely blind. So why bother with the blindfold? It meant they weren’t angry hunters.

“You wanna end this never-ending agony this time?” It was one of the women. Her voice was harsh, like someone had rubbed sandpaper over her vocal cords. Probably a smoker, when indulgences like that were commonplace. Just like every other time they prodded him, Ignis stayed silent, just listening. His only hope of escape was catching them off guard, somehow. While he could still summon his weapons, at this angle there was little he could do against the steel chains. He had already tried. Magic was also an option but without knowing where he was that just invitation disaster.

“Tell us where we can find the crystal!” The same woman bellowed at him. Only a moment later Ignis felt a small gasp forced from his lungs. A blade, a knife, was shoved into his stomach so deep that the hilt cut into his body. Before they had been careful, no wounds that would cause him to lose too much blood or possibly be lethal. Now they were either angry or stupid. She pulled out the blade and quickly forced it back in, tearing the flesh with the sharp blade

The hilt made a sickening squishing noise as it pushed up against the new wound and forced blood down his side. He focused on the details, on her voice, on the height of the wound, on the weapon, that way he could ignore the pain. She pulled out the knife and stabbed his gut a third time, this time with enough force that a hiss of pain skipped past his lips. She was no longer interested in his answers, she was angry.

The advisor could feel blood seeping into his clothes with alarming speed. These wounds were deep enough that if she kept going he could very likely die of blood loss.

“If you kill me, you will never get your answer.” Silence and then a burst of pain in his temple as his head snapped to the side. She’d hit him with the butt of her knife hard enough that he felt dizzy. While he’d angered her, he had pretty much proven that it was only the two of them. For a short moment, he absolutely lamented the loss of his vision. If he could see maybe he would know if she had a key to release him or not. Or even how his restraints locked. But he was not going to let himself be stopped by something he had no control over.

“Shut up! You’ve been playing us for fools for days and I’ve had enough!” Another slice of the knife into flesh. “You probably don’t even know where the crystal is! Which means you’re worthless to us. No one’s coming to get you, Scientia. So how about I just slice your gut open and let you bleed out on the floor?”

The venom in her voice spoke volumes. She was far past angry, instead fueled by malice and hatred. Each word was as sharp as her knife although he wasn’t sure why it was aimed at him.

“It’s all your fault! You and your idiot friends. If you’d protected the king like you’re supposed to we wouldn’t have to live in this endless night! I’m going to make your death slow and very, very painful.” She leaned in close, her breath tricking across his neck like a miasma.

Ignis forced himself to breathe even though taking in air felt like needles through his chest. He wanted to rebut her, tell her all they went through to try to protect him. To protect their king. But he knew it would be pointless. She wouldn’t understand, no one could. No one could ever understand the exact moment, watching his vision burn away and seeing nothing but his best friend limp, unmoving. To feel the only semblance of a family any of them had ripped itself apart in pain and grief. So he stayed silent. He let her bring her hatred against him wound by wound, absorbing her pain as his own.

Eventually, she slowed, the room punctuated by her heavy breathing and the constant drip drip drip of blood on the floor. He was feeling lightheaded and weak as if he would fall over if he’d been able to stand. It hurt to move, it hurt to stay still. He let himself hang from the chain holding his arms, even though he could feel his left shoulder slowly slipping out of its socket. It would be nothing like the pain of his body being torn to ribbons.

“You wanna know why no one’s looking for you?” She sounded smug but also winded. The fury keeping her going had ebbed into his body, tearing it apart with each slash. “We knew they’d come for you so we gave them your glasses. Broken, of course, and a little bit of blood. So now they all think you’re dead. And you will be. Any last words?”

She was right, he was going to die here. Here alone in some sort of shed or building, hidden away in the darkness. But none of that mattered. Not the pain, not the sensation of his body rending with every gasp of breath. What mattered was that he wasn’t going to be there when Noct woke up. That he wasn’t going to be by his side when he returned to claim what was rightfully his. And that hurt more than any torture or any blade ever could.

“My last words are you better get the hell out of here before I do you ten times worse!” Ignis startled at the voice, his head snapping up to see, as if he’d forgotten his world was nothing but an empty nothing. The voice rang in his ears, a welcome familiar comfort. It was deep and carried far, the voice of a man who knew how to both communicate and intimidate.

“Gladio…?” The advisor was surprised at the raspiness of his own voice which almost sounded like he had forgotten how to speak. There was a sudden, loud, thump and the clattering of something across the ground. He knew those sounds. A shield used for offense, Gladio’s full might behind a deadly bodyslam into the ground. And then the knife that had been soaked in his own blood hitting the ground and being kicked away by a trained soldier.

“Ignis, what the hell! I was told you were dead! I came here to collect your body.”

“You came?” He wasn’t sure why he was so surprised. Maybe because the last time they had seen each other it had been a rather unpleasant exchange. He had a feeling that another was coming, a tirade on why he should be back at base and not out here, trying to fight. Certainly, this situation was going to turn the tide even stronger in Gladio’s direction.

Ignis heard the snap of steel and the chains holding him upright gave way. His knees folded but Gladio’s arm caught him, carefully lowering him to the ground. The other man’s arm felt like hot led against his skin or was he so cold that it made Gladio feel warm. Ignis felt faint as if he would lose consciousness at any moment.

“Please allow me a moment to recover, then we can return to base.” The Shield didn’t answer but he could feel movement and then there was a quiet mechanical click. The metal bindings on his legs were pulled free and the chain slowly unwrapped from his hands. As circulation rushed back it brought with it a familiar pain but the sensation seemed rather distant now. As if he was observing it in someone else.

“Iggy we have to get you back, and now.” There was no room for argument between his words. The man stood and pulled Ignis to his feet in turn. The sudden movement wrenched away his sense of up and down but he did manage to stay on his feet. He felt Gladio’s hand on his back, trying to lead him by pushing him in the correct direction. Their bodies were so close together that he felt the other’s body tense as Ignis wobbled, unsteady on his feet.

“Ignis-”

“Gladio, I will be fine. I asked for a moment, did I not? I just...need...a moment.” It was getting hard for Ignis to string words together. He didn’t even notice his own knees give in and Gladio caught him again, this time just shifting the other man into his arms. It was obvious by the paleness of his skin and the red soaking the floor that Ignis was bleeding out.

Without giving the blind man a chance to complain he started to carry him. He couldn't run without making the injuries worse so he just walked with steady, long strides.

“Gladio? If I die, please, tell Noctis that-”

“Shush. You’re not going to die. Just hold on, I’ll carry you. And I’ll keep carrying you until you can stand on your own two feet in front of him, you idiot. I wish you wouldn’t...no, this isn’t the time to fight. Just know I’m going to keep holding on.”

Ignis didn’t respond, instead, he just let himself relax into the strong arms that cradled him with a surprising gentleness. It was a long way to base and he knew he couldn’t hold onto his conscientiousness that long. So he was going to enjoy the sensation while he could.

[kaelinaloveslomaris]

Whumptober 5: Gunpoint

FFXV again. It’ll be back to Star Wars tomorrow. This one gets a little violent.

—

It was taking Noctis longer to get ready than Ignis would probably like, as usual. To be honest, Noctis was dragging his feet a little bit on purpose, not at all thrilled about the state dinner he was getting ready for. He hated the overly formal clothes, the small talk he would be required to participate in, the cameras, the expectations. He was already irritable from the argument he’d had earlier with his dad about his freedom of movement outside the Citadel, so when Ignis had fussed one time too many about how he had tied his tie, he ordered him out to get the car ready.

Noctis frowned at his reflection. He knew he wasn’t up to Ignis’s, or his dad’s, standards, but it was still too much for him. He didn’t know how his dad did it, dressed in too many layers of stuffy clothing on a daily basis. There were a lot of things he didn’t understand how his dad could handle, and even though he knew he should deal with them because they would be his problems one day, he tended to avoid thinking about them. Mostly because the day he would be forced to confront them would be the day his dad died, and he knew he would never be ready for that.

He shook his head angrily, not wanting to go there. He would have enough on his plate tonight without the added strain of thinking about Regis’s impending death.

Forcing the thoughts out of his mind with practiced strength, he straightened his tie one more time and brushed imaginary dust off the lapels of his too-perfectly-tailored jacket. He shouldn’t keep Ignis waiting any longer. He was probably on the verge of an internal panic attack as it was, and unlike Gladio, Ignis respected Noctis’s orders enough not to come back in and drag him out unless they were really going to be late. And even then he’d just knock.

The street outside Noctis’s apartment was quiet, which wasn’t unusual, but the moment he stepped outside, he knew something was wrong. His eyes darted over to the car. It wasn’t running. Where was Ignis?

Something tugged on his awareness, a sensation not unlike one of his friends drawing on his magic. He turned around just in time to see Ignis being dragged out of the alley next to his apartment building, a stranger’s hand clamped over his mouth and a gun jabbing into his side. Noctis froze.

Ignis’s eyes were somehow calm, but Noctis could see the tension in every line of his body. His jacket was rumpled.

“Hello, Prince Noctis,” the man holding Ignis said. “I was beginning to worry you weren’t going to make an appearance.”

“Let him go,” Noctis snarled. He didn’t draw a weapon, but he felt the magic rise in him, ready to be unleashed in whatever manner he chose.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that. He put up quite the fight. I will say this for the line of Lucis, your people are well trained.” Noctis wondered if the man had not originally been working alone. He was sporting a black eye, but even taken by surprise, Ignis could easily do more damage than that.

“What do you want?”

“I think that should be clear.”

“Ignis says I’m dense. Enlighten me.”

Keep him talking, maybe you can come up with some way to get Ignis away from him.

Noctis bit back a grin at the irritation that sprang to the man’s eyes. He knew he shouldn’t goad someone holding a gun on his friend, but if he could just get the man to aim it at him instead...

“If you value your advisor’s life, you will surrender and come with us.”

Us. So there were more of them somewhere, or else the man was bluffing, or had simply forgotten that Ignis had taken his companions out.

“I don’t think so.”

“Perhaps your advisor can talk some sense into you.” The man removed his hand from over Ignis’s mouth, resting it against Ignis’s throat instead. He didn’t squeeze, but the threat was clear, as if the gun wasn’t enough. Noctis could kill him before he strangled Ignis, but he wasn’t faster than a bullet at point blank.

If the man thought Ignis would plead with him to go along with whatever this man was planning in order to save his own life, he was going to be disappointed. Ignis’s highest priority was Noctis’s well-being. He was more likely to tell Noctis to run.

“Highness…” Ignis warned. It was subtle, he was far better as masking his emotions than Noctis ever would be, but his voice was strained. Noctis wasn’t sure if it was fear for his own safety or fear of what Noctis would do to protect him. Probably a combination.

Noctis knew, had had it impressed upon him again and again, that he was supposed to let his retinue do their jobs in a situation like this. He was supposed to just let them die, let them take the fall for him. Because he was “more important” or some crap like that, despite that Noctis knew he was nothing without Ignis behind him. Ignis kept him grounded. He was the one with a steady head on his shoulders. He always knew what to do, how to handle tough situations. Noctis would be a failure of a king if he didn’t have Ignis to guide him. And even without all that, Noctis cared far too much for Ignis, for any of his friends, to just stand by and let them die. Screw the protocols.

“Shut up, Ignis.” Ignis pressed his lips together in disapproval. Noctis knew that look. Ignis gave it to him on a regular basis. When he hadn’t touched his homework or the stack of political reports Ignis had delivered. When he let the dishes and laundry pile up. When he snuck out with Prompto without telling anyone and came home past midnight to a furious Gladio pacing his apartment and Ignis sitting at the table, face mostly unreadable except for the set of his mouth. It was an expression that told him he needed to think carefully about what he did next.

But despite what every security briefing had told him, there really was only one correct course of action here.

“Let him go and I’ll go with you.”

“That’s not how this works, Highness.” He sneered the title. “You come with us and we bring him along to make sure you cooperate.”

Noctis knew how it worked. He’d been kidnapped a few times before, though the Crownsguard usually got to him before his assailants had even sent out ransom demands. He knew how it worked, because nobody who had ever been taken with him had survived. As soon as he was subdued and brought to wherever it was the kidnappers wanted him, they were deemed unnecessary and killed. It was simply luck that Gladio or Ignis had never been taken with him, and the fact that they had thwarted the few attempts that had been made while he was with them.

If he allowed this man to take both him and Ignis, chances were high that Ignis would not survive, and that was something that Noctis could not allow. Enough people had died for him already.

“No.” He let his magic build a little more. He wondered if Ignis could feel it gathering around him the way Noctis could when one of his friends drew on it. He would have to ask later, when they weren’t so busy.

“Noctis…” Ignis’s eyes were pained.

“I don’t think you’re understanding me. I will kill him -”

“And then you will have to fight me with no distractions, and I don’t think you’ve ever dealt with an angry Lucis Caelum or you would realize how bad of an idea that is.”

There. In his agitation, the man had shifted slightly to the side, exposing some of his chest. It was the best he was going to get. Noctis spared a thought for how much guilt Ignis would feel if he died in front of him. Then he loosed his magic.

He was throwing the dagger before it even fully manifested in his hands. He caught up to it in the space of a blink as it sank into the right side of the man’s chest, just under his collarbone. The force of the impact knocked them all to the ground.

Noctis kicked out as they landed, trying to knock the gun away. He was dimly aware of Ignis rolling away from them, the pull of magic as a weapon was removed from the Armiger. He yanked the dagger out of the man in a spray of blood, preparing to drive it back down into his throat.

A knee to his stomach, and the air was driven out of his lungs. Noctis fell back, gasping. He lost his grip on the dagger. The man gave him no time to recover. He scrambled on top of him, pinning him down with a hand wrapped around his throat and brought the gun up.

There was no oxygen. There was a void in his chest like stasis, but it hurt. His lungs spasmed. He kicked his legs, trying unsuccessfully to catch any part of the man’s body.

Then Ignis was there, and the man was not, and Noctis could breathe again. He noticed for the first time that Ignis was limping as he positioned himself between Noctis and the man, flames licking along the blades of his twin daggers.

Noctis dragged himself to his feet, summoning the Engine Blade. Breathing was still difficult, and each shift of fabric against his throat reminded him of fingers wrapped around it, but he was not going to let Ignis fight alone, especially if he was injured.

“Stay back, Highness,” Ignis murmured, putting an arm out to stop Noctis from stepping up to his side.

“You should have come quietly,” the would-be kidnapper said. Then he raised his gun and fired.

Noctis screamed as the first bullet punched into Ignis’s chest. He wasn’t fast enough to avoid the second one entirely. It grazed his side as he warped, but his aim was true. The Engine Blade drove through the man’s chest with a sickening crunch of ribs, punctuated by Noctis’s scream of rage. He ripped the blade out to the side as they fell, tearing through more of the man’s body, sending a spray of blood across the pavement. They landed hard, Noctis on top. He brought his sword up one more time and drove it down into the man’s neck, neatly severing his head.

Noctis rolled off the body, banishing his sword. His breath was coming in ragged gasps and his side burned. He had been shot…

Ignis!

His own injuries forgotten, Noctis warped to Ignis’s side. His advisor was lying still, too still, and there was so much blood. Too much blood. But his chest was still moving. He was still breathing. Noctis gasped in relief.

“Ignis!” No response.

It took Noctis a moment to find the entry wound. He pressed a hand over it. It was too low on the chest to have hit his heart, but it had probably punctured a lung. There was blood on Ignis’s lips.

“Iggy, hang on. Stay with me.” When had he started crying?

He pulled a potion from the Armiger, praying that it would be enough. He broke it over Ignis’s chest, watching in horrible anticipation as Ignis’s breathing strengthened and evened out.

Noctis sobbed, covering his mouth with a bloody hand, when Ignis’s eyes finally fluttered open. His face instantly contorted with pain, and Noctis stopped him from trying to sit up.

“Noct, are you alright?” Of bloody course his first thought would be Noctis’s safety.

“I’m fine.” His side was burning, he could feel blood seeping into his ruined clothes, and his throat ached. “Rest, Iggy. You were shot.”

“Is he dead?”

Noctis nodded. “I killed him.” Well, he’d done a bit more than that. Bile rose in his throat at the memory. He’d gone a bit too far.

“Good.” Ignis relaxed.

It took Noctis another moment to realize he should probably call Gladio. And another moment after that to notice that Ignis was probably uncomfortable with his head on the hard ground. Taking his jacket off to use as a pillow was not an option, as it would reveal that he too had been shot, so he moved to cradle Ignis’s head in his lap, waiting until he heard the sirens in the distance.

[gwiiyeoweo]

Noctis, when he had been old enough to understand, was told of his fate — to trade his one life for the sake of all humanity. That didn't stop him from living his life, and he's determined to use what time he has until destiny calls his name.

Rating: G Pairing: Noctis & (almost) Everyone

When he is thirteen, Noctis truly learns the meaning behind his mysterious title — the Chosen King — and what his destiny entails. He's come back from a training session with Gladio, cut short by an hour as his "belated" birthday present but Noctis is convinced it's only because the older teen never figured out what to gift him, after a quick shower afforded by the locker rooms. 

He’s walking half-blind as he rubs a towel into his wet hair and almost collides into his own father, but Regis reaches out with steady hands before Noctis can fall backwards onto his already sore rump. 

“Noctis, finished training early today?” he asks, righting his son back up. 

His father sounds… strained, despite the casual question. Noctis slides the towel off his head and looks up to see Regis look as torn as his tone did. In response, Noctis’ own distress probably shows — he hasn’t had his governess or Ignis to teach him how to keep a poker face in the face of politics just yet — as Regis raises a hand to placate him when his son opened his mouth to ask frantic questions. 

“I’ve spent long nights and countless days on when to tell you. You deserve to know the truth, Noctis, no matter how much it pains me to say it; so forgive your father for holding this secret from you for so long.” 

Regis takes them to his office, locks the door and draws the curtains closed, and sits them both on the couch. He tries, as best as he can, to keep his voice steady and face dry as he explains the truth of Noctis’ destiny, that the boy must die according to a god’s prophecy and by the hands of his ancestors. Noctis nurses a mug of hot chocolate as he listens, often made by his father to coax out the nightmares that still plague him, quietly and without taking a sip. 

It’s only after a moment of silence that he takes his first drink and he licks his lips before finally looking up at his father. “Do you know when I’m supposed to… to die?”

“No. I wish I could tell —”

“So I could be fifty? Or sixty?” he says, daring a bit of hope into his voice. But then, “Or maybe twenty.”

Regis looks as well as a father delivering his beloved son’s death sentence. That is to say, he looks absolutely terrible. But he nods his assent, his throat gone dry. 

Noctis stares into his drink, seeing none of his reflection in the dark cream and foam. He tries again though, tries to be brave like his father when he appeared before Noctis and told him the truth. “Y’know, in school, we’re learning about statistics and probability and stuff. Who knows, maybe the odds will be on my side and this Accursed guy won’t show up until way later.”

He looks up, does his best attempt at a smile, but he doesn’t see his father’s face. Not when his eyes go blurry with tears, and Regis cradles the boy to his chest. The mug is forgotten between them, knocked over onto the floor, and the sweetness of the hot chocolate is turned to salt from their tears. 

(But Noctis won’t let that stop him. It lights a certain fire in his heart, breathes life into a determination to live and not just survive. If all it takes is one life to save an entire world, then the choice is easy: he’ll do it. He’ll be a good king, like his father, and make his ancestors proud. But that doesn’t mean he has to wallow in self pity and curse the little time he has left.)

When he is fourteen, Noctis seeks out the Kingsglaive. He waltzes through headquarters and barges into Drautos’ office, pointedly ignoring the small meeting in session, and crosses his arms to demand their finest Glaive. After waiting in the hallway — after Drautos grabbed him by the back of his collar, lifting his feet from the ground, and silently carried him out the door — he’s introduced to Nyx Ulric. Upon meeting him, Noctis has serious doubts he’s the best.

But he learns. 

“Don’t like training with your Shield, little prince?” Nyx asks through a grunt, pushing off Noctis’ sword with his kukris. “You’ll make him jealous.”

Without answering, Noctis goes in for an upward slash, using his smaller size to keep low to the ground and using the momentum to aim for Nyx’s neck. It doesn’t land, he didn’t expect it to, but it has the man skipping backwards and giving him a stretch of space for Noctis to gather back his bearings. He wipes the sweat off his cheek, and it only annoys him a little to see a single bead of sweat rolling down Nyx’s neck while knowing his own shirt is soaked through. 

“No, I like Gladio. He’s a jerk sometimes, but I still like him. Still train with him.” 

“Then why hang around me for the past few months?”

Noctis mutters something and phases out his practice sword for a set of daggers to shuck at Nyx. 

“Say that again?” The man parries both blades like he’s swatting a pair of flies.

“Because,” Noctis says, flashing behind him where a dagger was deflected to. “I don’t want to miss out on anything. Get to know you, the Kingsglaive, the Crownsguard.” He aims for a kick at the back of the knees, but Nyx warps away to safety before the attack even lands. 

Nyx hangs from a boulder, where he’s dug his kukri into, and cups his other hand around his mouth to yell across the distance. “You say it like we’ll disappear when you trade crowns with the King. Don’t worry, we’ll all still be around when it’s your turn to take the throne. Unless you decide to fire us!” 

The stone around his kukri crumbles, and he ends up eating dirt when the hold gives way. 

Noctis rolls his eyes and waits for the dust to settle, for Nyx to pop back up and pretend no one saw that. But if Crowe’s background snickering is anything to go by, he knows that’ll be a joke to save over kebabs and beer — root beer for Noctis. But while Nyx busies himself and shakes the dust off his uniform, whistling as if nothing’s amiss, Noctis watches on fondly and amused, muttering to the wind and no one else, “You’re not the ones disappearing, promise.”

(There was only so much he could learn through texts and lessons, cheap and watered down explanations of the nations and cultures beyond Insomnia’s walls. Nyx Ulric shared his traditions like he shared his smiles and jabs, easy and overflowing, teaching Noctis the meaning behind every braid, scar, and tattoo and going so far as to thread a carved bead into the prince’s hair. At the very least, Noctis could leave Nyx and his friends a proper memory of him, sitting around a shoddy restaurant and laughing over Noctis' intolerance for their tongue-burning cuisine. And he, a memory of loyal soldiers and even more loyal friends who look upon him as a brother rather than a prince.)

When he is fifteen, Noctis shows up at Ignis’ doorstep with an armful of groceries and his clothes soaked through with rain. Ignis nearly breaks the hinges off his door, and he quickly shuffles the drowned prince in and to the bathroom. 

It’s only when Noctis sits himself at the table, wearing old spares of Ignis’ clothes from his younger years, and he drinks from a cup of sweetened coffee that he spares an explanation. “Teach me how to cook.”

Ignis stares at Noctis’ easy grin and dripping hair, still wet from the quick shower, and it takes all his willpower to not throw his liege across the room. His Majesty approved of the apartment his son had picked to move into once high school started, and Ignis had made his own move to accommodate. He’s only lived in his new complex for a week, but he doesn’t remember telling Noctis the address. 

“I asked your uncle.”

He also didn’t realize he was talking out loud. 

“So,” Ignis sighs, emphasizing the disapproval in his huff, “you trekked through the rain, without Gladio or a guard, to arrive at my doorstep all to ask for a cooking lesson?”

“I brought groceries?” Noctis supplements, as if it changes anything. He nods his head over to the bags, the ones Ignis took from him before shoving him into the bathroom. 

Ignis leans his hip into the counter and slides his glasses off to pinch at his nose. He’s trying to think of the occasion, of the why and the what. Did he miss an anniversary, or some special day? Was this some wayward way of an apology? Noctis had been surly as of late, understandably. Teenage hormones — Ignis is still going through that himself — mixed with the looming shadow of his father’s mantle and the burden of a kingdom to inherit would do that. He recalls Noctis snapping at him the other day, when the prince had wanted to go into the city rather than spend a day studying over old history books. 

“What’s the point of reading dumb books when I can be out there, right now, seeing what and how my people are doing? How am I supposed to be a King if I don’t get actual experience in?”

Ignis had chalked it up to a cooped up teen itching for some freedom, so he had been surprised to hear there was a more practical reason. But before he could counter his argument, Noctis had swiped a stapler and followed it out the window, safely warping to the ground below. It had been night, with the first stars lighting the dark skies, when Nyx Ulric ended up dragging the prince back home, smelling of greasy kebabs and the barest hint of alcohol. “It was only a taste,” the man had defended. 

Ignis ends up going through the groceries and figuring what he could easily teach Noctis, but not without suspicion. His prince recognizes that look, the one Ignis puts on when he smells trouble, like he has some sixth sense dedicated to sniffing out what shenanigans Noctis has in mind. 

“I mean, can’t a guy hang out with his friend and bond over… ” Noctis checks the label on the can “… sweetened condensed milk?”  

“Perhaps. But coming from you? Pardon me when I say I have my doubts.” Ignis hands him a bowl and whisk anyway, as well as four eggs to crack and beat. “Separate the whites from the yolk please.” 

“It’s just,” he starts, cracking an egg in half. He tries to shift the yolk in between the halved shells, like all the cooking videos do, but whispers a curse when he pierces the yolk. “Well, am I seriously going to spend the rest of my life only knowing how to microwave noodles and mac ‘n’ cheese? Might as well learn while I have the time, and learn from the best while I’m at it.”

“While I’m pleased to know you’ve been taking your etiquette skills seriously, know that flattery will get you nowhere.” Ignis takes an egg and shows him how to properly separate them, letting the whites slip through while retaining the yolk. “Except for today. It will get you through the night, until I tell His Majesty you slipped out of the Citadel, first thing in the morning.” 

“ Speeeeecs. ”

(For all their time together, Noctis never sat down to properly watch and appreciate Ignis’ skills with a skillet and knife, despite how he absolutely devoured anything and everything his friend cooked up — and only with a little grumbling when it came to vegetables. The realization hit him in the middle of the night, when he had seen the little tart sitting in his mini fridge, covered in saran wrap and with a sticky note of Ignis’ penmanship scribbled on it. He didn’t know how long this would last, the quiet comforts of oil popping and the aroma of spices, but as he had scrambled to pull his raincoat on and climb through his window, he was determined to savor every last second like he savored every bite.)  

When he is sixteen, Noctis locks eyes with the blonde kid who’s been hiding in his shadows for all these years. He remembers the first time they exchanged words, their poor excuse of an interaction, but he remembers it still. He was still a child himself, a little thing with baby fat still clinging to his face but has now mostly receded; but the blonde had enough weight on him to make Noctis nearly tip over when he had helped him up. He only recognizes him because he’s kept half an eye on him, quietly watching the boy grow out of his extra pounds and into more self-confidence. 

Noctis didn’t reach out sooner only because the boy himself didn’t seem ready. Which was fine, he supposed, as long as the guy didn’t wait until Noctis’ calling came to take him away. 

So it comes as a relief when he finally trots up and drags out the courage to say hello to Noctis, introducing himself as Prompto Argentum and bouncing like the sunshine caught in his hair. Noctis pretends to barely recognize him, only mentioning he’s seen Prompto a few times here and there, and makes a joking comment that he should have said hi sooner, that the rumor about the Caelums being vampires is only half true and he doesn’t bite without permission. That earns a laugh from both sides, though Prompto pauses for a brief moment to lean in and whisper, “Are you like, serious, though?”

To which Noctis rolls his eyes and drags him along before they arrive to class late. 

It’s late on a weekend, having gone past their promised hours at the arcade, when Noctis looks at his phone to see they were both supposed to head home long ago. He pulls Prompto outside, after cashing in their tickets and trading them in for cheaply-made toys and sugar-loaded candy, and apologizes for letting the time slip by. “Sorry, your parents aren’t going to be too pissed, are they?”

“Oh! Don’t worry, dude. They’re not home,” Prompto says, waving off his concerns with a hand and a smile. “They never are.” 

It’s then, that Noctis realizes, Prompto is lonelier than he lets on. 

There was a time in his life, the dark years of his childhood when he almost let his fate consume him. He was still a child, a little boy whose life would be cut short, a child who could do nothing but accept it and obey. Though he made a goal to not let it ruin the happiness he could still grasp, it was like struggling with a terminal disease and not knowing when his countdown would begin. Where to begin? What to do first? Would he even get to? 

It did not help he felt estranged from his own father for a time, though it was by no fault of Regis. He was king first and foremost, a king before Noctis was born, who was and is responsible for a kingdom and his people. Noctis understood, and tried to keep his struggles and life crisis to himself, to not needlessly burden his father with even more worries. It was the loneliest and hardest year of his life. 

So it takes one to know one, and Noctis knows what Prompto keeps secret. He doesn’t mention it, sees no point in digging up both old and fresh wounds; he makes an offer. “Wanna spend the night over?”

He sees the way Prompto’s brain short circuits, but the boy catches himself and bounces on his heels with an enthusiastic, “Hell yeah!”

They order enough delivery to make Ignis cry, but that’s a mess for tomorrow’s Noctis to worry about. For now they boot up the console and mash their buttons with greasy fingers, huddled up together on the couch as they beat the living shit out of each other’s characters. Noctis lets him win a few rounds, and he just laughs along when Prompto jumps up to do his victory dance.

(Outside of the Citadel, Noctis had no friends. Though they became his brothers in every sense except for blood, both Ignis and Gladio were sworn to him out of duty. Everyone else either wanted to rub elbows with royalty or were too intimidated to speak to a living and breathing prince. All except for Prompto, a welcome warmth compared to the cold stone of the Citadel. Prompto may think himself a simple plebeian, but Noctis knows him as so much more. He only hopes he has enough time to express that.)

When he is seventeen, Noctis hunts down Gladiolus and orders a weekend of camping, adjusting the duffel bag stuffed with instant noodles on his shoulder as if it’s the only thing he needs in the wilderness, ready and raring to go at a moment’s notice. “Your dad cleared out your schedule and gave the OK,” he says with a thumbs up.

“Okay. First of all, you didn’t bother to ask me first? And second, you hate camping.” Gladio, in his defense, has every reason to be skeptical. Normally Noctis would run at the mere mention of a tent, the only way to placate him being the promise of a fishing trip. Sometimes, it’s like pulling teeth to get him out of bed for morning training, when both their schedules only allowed them an hour after dawn before either of them had to be whisked away to other responsibilities. “Third, who are you and when did Noct get a body double so where is the brat hiding —”

“One, you love camping anyway. Two, we’re gonna go fishing too. And three, you’re an ass.” Noctis counts off his fingers as he answers to the accusations, then shrugs off the bag to shove it into Gladio’s arms. He watches as Gladio sighs and unzips it, and smiles when he sees those eyebrows lift up in surprise. 

“Are you trying to bribe me?” 

They both know Gladio could buy all the cup noodles his heart and stomach could ever want, the perks of being in service to royalty and all that, but it’s the thought that counts. 

“Huh. I guess you are Noct, doubt a body double would know my favorite flavor," he says, picking out a styrofoam cup and reading the label. Shrimp, surprisingly. 

“Oh shut up and help me pack.”

They take a trip to the northern mountains of Lucis, one of the few lands outside of Insomnia that Niflheim hasn’t reached. They pitch the tent at a haven, its glowing runes and blessed magic strong enough to ward off any daemons and beasts looking for a snack. Gladio makes a show of starting up the fire, as he is apt to do, with a piece of flint and some kindling, coaxing the little flame into a strong blaze and feeding it wood. 

Noctis had once suggested to take advantage of the elemental deposits, to toss a weak fire spell at the fire pit rather than going through the hassle of rubbing twigs or scraping at firestarters, but they had both found out that even the weakest and tiniest little flask made for… explosive results. So Noctis lets Gladio do his thing, proudly displaying his fire-making skills and saying his little tidbit on self-reliance and whatever. 

It’s night when all is said and done, and despite his love for fishing, Noctis knows not to wander over to the river unless he wants to get munched on by something. So he drags both camping chairs over to the edge of the haven, the legs scraping against the stone and glowing engravings, and faces them out toward the dark wilderness. He sits and waits for Gladio to finish up their dinner, two hot steaming cups of instant noodles thanks to the kettle set over the campfire. Gladio comes over, hands a cup and fork over to Noctis, and takes the seat beside him. 

"So, what's up?" Gladio asks, after slurping down the crimped noodles. "Needed a breather from palace life?" 

Noctis shakes his head in favor of speaking with a mouth full of noodles and soup. "Just," he says, after swallowing his food down, "wanted to see the stars. Properly."

Insomnia, despite everything she had to offer, made for a poor city to view the night skies. Not because of her skylights and neon billboards or her thrumming streets always alive with gleaming cars and blinding headlamps. But because of the very magic that protected her walls, the King's barrier that blanketed the kingdom and shielded her from monsters and machines. It was beautiful in a way, how it shimmered with light and magic, but it drowned out the night's own brilliance. 

"Stargazing huh." Gladio placed his empty cup by the foot of his chair and leaned back to lift his eyes toward the same sky. "Remember any constellations?" 

"Yeah, a few." Noctis points his fork up, at a cluster of stars north of the waning moon. "Phoenix. There's a red star at the tip of its beak."

"I know that one. What about Kirin, ya see it?" 

"Next to Cait Sith." 

They trade constellation trivia for the better part of the night, Gladio pointing out the ones often used for navigation and Noctis the patterns he learned from his studies. 

(It's not entirely untrue, that he wished to go stargazing in the quiet night away from the city. But he'd be damned if he didn't get at least one simple night where they could both just sit back and enjoy a weekend for the sole purpose of sitting back and enjoying a weekend, even if it meant suffering through bug bites and lack of proper plumbing. Or Gladio’s snoring. But he’d trade a hundred nights — thousands, millions — spent in a plush bed and silk sheets if it granted him one night more throwing their arms and legs over each other in a cramped tent and tiny bedrolls.)

When he is eighteen, Noctis opens his door to let Umbra trot in, carrying the mystical notebook in his little pack. The dog patiently sits on his haunches while Noctis unzips the bag but follows him to the desk where Noctis trades the notebook for a few biscuits he keeps in the bottom drawer. Umbra gingerly takes the treats, minding his teeth and barely scraping Noctis’ fingers, and finds a corner of the room to nibble on his reward and to take his consequent nap. 

Noctis sits and leafs through the pages filled with stickers and glued photos until he finds the most recent entry, several paragraphs of Luna’s handwriting filling the page. There’s a few pressed petals of a sylleblossom as a footnote, marking the end of her writing. 

Dearest Noctis, as it always starts off. I'm afraid I can find little else of the Accursed, aside from what we've both gleaned. I pray to the gods and have asked Gentiana many times, but there is little they know. Or perhaps, little they're willing to share. 

Noctis expected as much. Both he and Luna have tried their research, Luna going to the gods and Noctis scouring the old texts and archives for this destined nemesis. All Noctis could learn was the name Adagium, and that he had to rip out of his father's lips. A man cursed of darkness, apparently, keen on seeking destruction and vengeance. But for why or for what, exactly? 

It would be nice to at least know what he looks like, for obvious practical reasons. His father couldn't even tell him that much, confessing that Adagium had used a sort of glamour to hide his true face during his rampage in the city. 

Figured , he writes on the next page. Don't sweat it though. You holding up over there? They're not working you too hard, are they? 

Not long after Regis told him the truth of his calling, Noctis had turned to Luna. She had known. And just like Regis, she had wanted to give him a mercy, hiding the guillotine of martyrdom from his eyes. He had been upset, having trusted her for so long, but he had also recognized her goodwill, for all intents and purposes; it hadn't taken long for him to forgive her, with his soft heart and her even softer words. 

And when both their lives would be cut short. Noctis isn't the only one whose time will be taken after all. They bond over that, over their sacrifices to be made. He finds a comfort knowing there is another experiencing his same pain, though there had been the slight ping of guilt from finding relief in another’s shared suffering. But Luna had comforted him — bless her heart of gold — and confessed she held the same sentiments.

He slaps a sticker at the end of his entry, a tiny white moogle flaunting his favorite soda. He packs that same soda in Umbra’s pack, along with the notebook, and feeds the dog one more treat before sending him on his way. Noctis watches him saunter down the hall and disappear around the corner, using whatever Messenger trick to return to Luna’s side. 

(He may never get to see her again, not until the gods call for them, or save her from her fate — especially not when he can't even save himself — but they could at least find comfort in each other. Spend what time they had left to salvage what was lost in the fires wreaked by Glauca. They’ll play their roles in the end, King and Oracle, their legacy to be written as a romantic sacrifice in the books to come. Or maybe the world will never realize the price that will be paid, letting their lives fall to obscurity in favor of flashier feats. And if the world does indeed forget them, they’ll remember each other.)

When he is nineteen, Noctis reaches his tipping point. He’s been a brat, an imp, a gremlin; but not a liar. He can only keep a secret for so long, perhaps a trait earned from his father, considering he’s nearly breaking at the seams when he decides the charade will kill him before the prophecy does. 

So he picks a holiday weekend, when there’s no school and no threat of homework, and when even the government runs on the bare minimum to keep anarchy off the streets. Noctis and Prompto have no projects to worry about, and Gladio and Ignis are relieved of their duties for a short while. 

They’re all sitting in the living room, Gladio and Prompto digging their hands into a bowl of fresh popcorn, Ignis ignoring the action movie they have playing in favor of scrolling through the local news. Noctis excuses himself to use the bathroom.

He stands in front of the sink, splashes cold water on his face, looks into the mirror and dips his head down to splash even more water. He wonders how his father managed to scrape up the guts to tell him all those years back, because his own guts threaten to upheave the linguini Ignis cooked for dinner. But he knows he has to tell them, that it’s almost criminal he’s kept it from them for so long, even if the idea has his heart in a knot and his brain in a storm of anxiety. Noctis would pray to the gods for courage, if they weren’t the very ones taking him from his friends and family. 

“We have to talk,” he says, after spending what seemed like hours in the bathroom trying to gather his nerves. 

“But it’s the good part!” Prompto whines through a stuffing of popcorn. “Can you — oh.”

Prompto sees it first, but Gladio and Ignis swivel their heads around to see what has the blonde’s tongue tied. One look from Noctis and they all understand. Gladio goes for the remote, clicking the TV off, Prompto puts away their popcorn, and Ignis even makes sure to put his phone on silent. 

They make room for him, but Noctis takes a cushion and goes to the floor instead, squeezing the pillow in between his hands as he tries for words. He wants to shut down, stop halfway and just plaster on a smile and laugh out a “Haha, kidding!” but that would only break their hearts even more.

They all sit in silence, trying to digest the news and gravity of their prince’s demise. Noctis tries to chisel away at it and give them an out. “If… If any of you don’t want to hang around with a dead man walking, that’s okay, I get it.”

But before he can say anymore, Gladio and Prompto dogpile him, the soft carpeting the only thing staving off a concussion. Prompto’s weight he could handle, Gladio’s too if it was only him, but their combined loads make breathing like sucking through a straw. It makes crying hard too, he guesses. 

Prompto’s bumbling through his snotty nose and sobs, saying something like “Dude, don’t say that” or “Rude, dawn say fat.” Probably the prior. Gladio’s no waterfall, but his cheeks have slick trail marks running down them; his throat’s probably too tight to say anything, so he’s making up for it with how tight he wraps his arms around Noctis. 

Ignis sits by Noctis’ head, having put away his glasses sometime ago to wipe his eyes, and simply brushes his fingers through the boy’s hair. “Fool,” is all he says. An insult in the nature of the word, but Noctis thinks it’s one of the sweetest things he’s ever heard from that smart-ass mouth of his. In that, he means to say Noctis is a fool for ever daring the idea of his greatest friends leaving him to save themselves the heartbreak. 

“We’re never leaving you, man. Got it? Never ever ever, ” Prompto manages to say through the congestion. 

(Noctis holds them to it, like the way they hold each other for the rest of their years.) 

When he is twenty, Noctis prepares for the road trip of a lifetime — Gladio, Prompto, and Ignis promised to his side.

[goodlucktai]

the way you move ain’t fair, you know

final fantasy xv pairing: promnis word count: 1595 summary: Ignis and Prompto, and three times they danced. read on ao3

x

It doesn’t help that their audience is laughing. Ignis levers a stern look at them and tightens his grip on his dancing partner’s waist before the inevitable escape attempt can be made.

“Ignore them, Prompto,” he says. “Don’t go slinking off now, you’ve almost got the hang of it.”

“The hang of stomping on your feet?” Prompto says miserably. “Yeah, I’ve got that down.”

There’s a ball coming up, the first one that Prompto will attend as the prince’s royal guard rather than the prince’s personal guest. There’s a certain level of etiquette he was trained in already, along with the other recruits that were going into regular Crownsguard services, but with higher clearance comes additional requirements.

At least, that’s how Clarus pitched it. It was a kinder, more professional way of saying “your best friend threw you under the bus.” Because if Noctis had to dance, by Shiva, so did Prom.

He’s not the clumsy teenager he was in high school. He’s grown into his wide shoulders and long limbs, leanly muscled from training, lithe and flexible and strong. Ignis is certain he’ll be a beautiful dancer, if only he manages to learn the steps.

“You’re much better at this than Noctis,” Ignis says plainly, making no effort to lower his voice. It carries easily across the polished surfaces of the airy ballroom. “It took him weeks to learn a simple waltz, and that was with a handful of royal tutors. He may appear graceful now, but appearances are deceiving.”

It surprises Prompto into laughter, the first unselfconscious sound he’s made all evening. Noctis looks betrayed. Gladio looks as though he’s happy just to be alive in this moment. At least they’ve stopped making fun.

“Well,” Prompto says, “I guess I can think of worse ways to spend my time.”

His posture is relaxed, his body radiating warmth against Ignis’ hands where they’re holding him. He’s been sized for a formal tux for the event, and generally Ignis has a proclivity for the sharp and elegant lines of suits and gowns-- but Prompto looks good like this, in paint-stained sweats and one of Gladio’s T-shirts. Ignis almost prefers it to the tailcoat he’ll wear at the ball.

“As can I,” Ignis says, and he signals Noctis to start the music again, and away they whirl.

“Aw, come on, Iggy,” Prompto says, “I know you’ve gone clubbing before. Don’t lie to me.”

Twenty-four and ludicrously charming, Prompto leans languidly across Ignis’ desk like a cat that caught a canary. There’s a smile tugging at his mouth that is almost a smirk, knowing and self-satisfied.

Ignis shuffles paperwork around for something to do with his hands, well aware of their friends’ hawk-like eyes following the verbal volleys.

“It’s been several years,” he says stiffly. It’s the wrong thing to say when Prompto shoots upright, hands planted on the edge of Ignis’ desk, victory in every light and line of his body.

“So you have gone!”

Gladio is looking at Ignis like Ignis just did a backflip over his desk. Sometimes the prince and the Shield seem to forget that he does have a personal life outside of his professional one. It’s just that the lines between personal and professional are perpetually blurred, considering how much of his heart his comrades and his liege take up.

“Prompto, no.” Ignis uses the tone he usually uses to shut things down. It usually works. “I’m much too busy to take a weekend off for no other reason than you want an excuse to make me wear eyeliner.”

The silence that follows is weighted. Prompto blinks, and looks at Noctis, who gently palms his face as though he can’t bear to look at them. Gladio says, “You know your birthday is on Saturday, right, Specs?”

Ignis pauses. Glances down at his ever-present planner, open to the current month, and finds the unmarked date looming back at him.

“Ah,” he says.

“So, you realize you just rendered your entire argument obsolete now, and there's no way you're getting out of this?” Prompto asks gently.

“Yes, I realize that.”

Which is how Ignis finds himself at a club on Saturday, with Sunday off as well. Ignis has to wonder how in the hell his friends managed that, because he hasn’t had two consecutive days free in-- frankly, he doesn’t want to think how many years.

Prompto, at least, is in his element. He’s confident here the way he isn’t in most other places. The neon lights of the club wash over his pale skin and fair hair, turn him technicolor and violet-eyed, and he attracts more than one lingering look as he walks backwards toward the dance floor, fingers curled stubbornly in the belt loops of Ignis’ jeans to pull him along.

“Just one song,” Prompto shouts over the thumping bass, a beat Ignis can feel in the soles of his shoes. “No, two. Three.” He grins crookedly, at himself or at the two of them or at their friends drinking themselves stupid at the bar or at the ridiculousness of all of it combined.

He’s lovely, Ignis thinks, not for the first time. Vivid and wild when he forgets to box himself in. Built for movement, for action, a runner’s body and an artist’s core. His eyes are fixed points in the dark room, like a path for Ignis to follow through the gyrating crowd and dizzying music. His hands are a constant warmth, searing through the thin material of Ignis’ borrowed shirt.

And a strange shiver of delight shoots through Ignis’ stomach at their closeness, when Prompto presses in to say, “Dance with me, Iggy! It’s your birthday!”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” Ignis says, and holds Prompto where he is, where there’s barely inches between them. “I’ll follow your lead.”

By the end of the night, Ignis’ feet are sore and his eyes feel bruised from the strobing lights and there’s a headache forming at his temples; but none of these things stop him from following Prompto’s gentle tug on his collar, and leaning in to kiss him while they wait for the valet to bring around the car.

“Thank the Six you’re so persistent,” he says. “I’d hate to have missed this.”

“I’d’ve gotten you one way or another,” Prompto assures him, grinning. Ignis believes him.

Noctis and Prompto are spinning around in circles on the dance floor, both of them turning thirty this year and behaving like the children they were when they first met. They haven’t knocked anyone else over, by the grace of Shiva, but it probably has more to do with the wide berth other dancers are giving them than their own observational skills.

“It’s nice to see the two of them behaving with the due dignity and decorum of their offices,” Ignis remarks mildly, setting aside his champagne.

Gladio claims the chair beside him, since most of the organized seating has gone out the window at this point in the evening, looking a happy mix of amused and proud. He’s a little pink from the alcohol, and his eyes are still a little puffy from his emotional speech at dinner. The glance Ignis gives him is unrelentingly fond. He figures he can get away with that today, of all days.

“This is the rest of your life,” the Shield says. “Aren’t you glad you signed up for this?”

“I signed up for this when I was six,” Ignis replies dryly. “Had I had any idea then what my future would look like, that might have influenced my decision.”

Gladio huffs out a laugh, not buying it. They’ve been friends for too long. “Yeah, influenced you to sign up faster. You wouldn’t trade a second of this for all the Michelin stars in the world. And that’s not what I was talking about.”

Ignis lets his eyes wander across the rolling garden. The lanterns and string lights are a warm glow, rocked gently by the summer breeze, and the clinking of cutlery and glasses is a pleasant backdrop, and the live band was replaced by an energetic DJ hours ago, a friend of Prompto’s from his favorite nightclub. The music is energetic, and the people on the dancefloor are having a good time, and Ignis has suddenly had quite enough of his cake and champagne.

He stands, folding his napkin over his plate politely.

“If you’ll excuse me,” he says, with playful severity, and heads away from one of his closest friends and towards the two of them currently making a nuisance of themselves among people too polite to say so.

“Specs!” Noctis cries gladly, without the good grace to look apologetic. He and Prompto both are shining with joy, they have been all night. “Here to steal your husband back?”

The word sends a thrill through him, and he smiles inwardly. What he says is, “Here to stop the two of you from mowing down everyone within a five foot radius, yes. Now hand him over.”

Prompto’s hair is a mess, and his tie is undone, and his suit jacket is gone to parts unknown and probably won’t ever be recovered, and Ignis has never loved anyone more.

“How much longer do we have the DJ?” Ignis asks against his hair. Prompto hums, muffled in Ignis’ chest.

“Ace’ll stay all night if I ask ‘im to. Why?”

“That’s how long I want to dance with you,” Ignis says.

Prompto looks up at him, eyes shining. “Everyone else’ll probably get bored and go home.”

“All the better,” Ignis says, and Prompto laughs, and they dance.

[alteriius]

Dysphoric

FANDOM: Final Fantasy XV PAIRING: Noctis/Prompto WORD COUNT: 2,311 LINKS: AO3 | FFN

Trans Prompto, dysphoria and a little bit of bed sharing. If this is the type of content you enjoy and you like my work, consider buying me a coffee! Also open to requests!

“Admit it, we're lost!”

“We are not lost.”

Prompto Argentum is the first to admit that Noctis isn't much of a liar. Hell, his honesty is probably a hazard to Lucis, as far as most its politicians are concerned, but that mattered little. He could say with confidence that most people preferred an honest king to a liar, even if he came baring disheartening information.

But as much of a liar Noct wasn’t, that didn’t mean he couldn’t tell one. Being a blunt guy didn’t mean he wouldn’t pretend that he knew where they were going until it was clear that he’d lost their way well over an hour ago.

“Dude, we're totally lost. There's the coeurl we killed like thirty minutes ago!”

“Okay, for on thing, that was maybe twenty minutes, but fine, yes,” Noctis says with an eye roll so aggressive that Prompto wouldn’t be surprised if they rolled right out of his head. He leans heavy on his “good” leg, eyes scouring the trees for their destination to no avail before making their way back to Prompto. “We’re a little lost.”

“Finally!” Prompto says, raising his hands toward the sky, as if reciting a silent prayer to the Astrals, thanking them for this blessing. Noct’s half-hearted glare stops him from actually singing his praises to the Six.

“You're more than welcome to show me where I should be going if you know so much better,” Noctis says with a wave of his hand, gesturing at the foreign landscape stretched out before him.

Oh, hell no.

“Right, uh, buddy. Pal. Kinda defeats the point of a camera man is he taking the lead.”

There’s another roll of his eyes, but Prompto doesn’t miss the way Noct’s lips twitch upwards into a smile that gives away his amusement.

“Yeah, you just wanna take pics of me falling on my ass,” Noctis says and Prompto touches a hand to his heart, offended by the mere concept that he would enjoy the opportunity to ruin his friend’s reputation. But he doesn’t have the chance to continue messing around, if only because they need to be adults for once, instead of letting Iggy do all the legwork for them.

“We're gonna have to camp soon. It's getting late,” Noctis says and any glee Prompto had found in their antics disappears. He groans at the idea of sleeping on the ground again. This would make the fourth night in a row—and this time, he couldn’t even blame Ignis being cheap.

“Ya know, I think we need to convince Ignis that sleeping on a giant magical rock that sends a smoky wisp thing up into the air to alert everyone to where it's at is probably not very beneficial to our health.”

“Tried it.”

A laugh spills from Prompto’s lips as a smile spreads across Noct’s face. The two of them walk onwards in the dimming light, searching for anything that might resemble safety once night fell. It’s the aforementioned sliver of smoky light that leads them to their destination and it’s not until he takes a running leap to the top of the rock that he realizes how shit out of luck they are.

“Aw, man,” Prompto says aloud, letting loose a whine as he swivels on his heels to look at his friend. “We’re gonna freeze our balls off out here, Noct.”

That was to be expected, but it somehow slipped his mind that as infinite as Noctis’s internal storage apparently was, their camping equipment had a home in the trunk of the Regalia, rather than the Armiger. Tents, sleeping bags… Come morning, they were both going to have nasty colds and aching backs to match.

“I have, uh…” Noctis says, pausing to hum softly before something flickers into existence in his hands, pulled from the Armiger. “This?”

This is a just a single, solitary blanket, not particularly thick and superior to what Prompto could offer—which was nothing—but it does little to make him feel better about the night they’d be spending away from their other comrades.

“That’s… not gonna get us very far.”

“Yeah, but it’s all we’ve got,” Noct says, shrugging off Prompto’s observation before he tosses the blanket to him. It covers Prompto’s face and by the time he’s wrestled it from the top of his head, Noctis is disappearing over the edge of the rock to retrieve a few pieces of firewood so they don’t actually freeze to death.

Apart from this sad little blanket, a fire was going to be their only means of staying relatively warm.

A sigh leaves his lips as he tips his head back for a moment to look at the stars starting to appear in the sky amidst the warm hues of the fading sun.

Looks like he's stuck prepping their, uh… sleeping arrangements.

Their camp is a sorry one. It can hardly be called one at all, but the sky is clear and the daemons are distant, so despite the chill in the air, they still had plenty to be thankful for. The fire isn’t going to stave off the cold as much as he’d like, but it’s better than nothing and it’s easy to ignore the chill in the air when he’s teasing Noct for cheating and using magic to start the fire.

It’s easy to ignore the temperature that’s steadily dipping sitting here with Noct, sucking down dinner that was little more than a nice meal of enhanced cup noodles. It’s not until they’re getting ready to underneath their single, solitary blanket that he begins to feel the cold. Their jackets are peeled away, laid down to defend them as much as possible from stone beneath them.

The rest should be easy. Years of knowing Noctis had given them time to have plenty of sleepovers in the past. There were perhaps too many times where Prompto ended up crashing at his place—in his bed—because he’d missed the last train. Not to mention, Noct was his best bud. The only real tragedy here would be if he wasn’t allowed to cuddle away the cold with him.

Noct is the first one to find a home in their shoddy sleeping arrangements. That’s no surprise. What he’s not expecting is for Noctis to stop him before he can crawl in to join him.

“C'mon, man, I'm freezing my junk off out here.”

“You’re not wearing that to bed.”

Violet blue eyes find a sudden interest in the stone beneath his feet more than the face of his friend. He can’t help biting down on his lip, chewing on the tender flesh there for a moment as he mulls over how to win the ensuing argument.

Anyone with half a brain would know what Noctis was talking about—and it’s not the pants he’s borrowed from him to keep the cold from clinging to his skin like it would if he slept in his boxers as per usual.

“Aw, come on, man. Don't be Ignis,” he tries, wringing his hands in front of him, chest constricting the minute the words were out of his mouth. That is 100% your anxiety, he tells himself, not wanting to believe it’s anything else, despite the likelihood of it.

The way Noct’s face scrunches up at the mere suggestion that he’s even remotely similar to his adviser elicits a breath of laughter from Prompto, though he knows a loss is in the cards. All he’s doing is prolonging the inevitable.

“I'm not ‘being Ignis’. You can't sleep in a binder, Prom.”

“Uh, and I can't sleep with my tits, like, on you.”

“Like they’re any different than mine.”

From day one, it’s been obvious that Prompto was the only one bothered by the disparity between his identity and his body. The only “disturbance” that had occured due to Prompto’s confession was Ignis being surprisingly upset that he hadn’t been told in advance so he could tailor meals more appropriately to minimize the negative impacts of what Prompto liked to call his “monthly hell”—and Prompto couldn’t have been happier to say that the extra effort wasn’t necessary.

But Noctis had known longer than Gladio or Ignis. He had found out back in high school, when his stupid uterus had decided to be on anything buta schedule and Prompto had been forced to tell the prince of his fucking country that he was trans and could he please go buy him a couple things because he couldn’t very well walk down the street bleeding everywhere.

Words could never express how grateful he was to have a friend that would not only go out and do exactly that, but would also deal with the weeksthat the press spent trying to track down who he was dating.

So if there was any one person that Prompto should feel comfort being around without a binder, it should probably be Noct—if only that was enough to will away his dysphoria.

“Prom,” Noctis says, voice as soft as it is stern. It’s the tone of his voice that dissolves whatever drive he has to keep his chest as flat as possible. Much as he hates the fat sacks hanging from his chest like a pair of anatomically-infused weights, sleeping in a binder is a bad idea.

Noct's right. He knows this; he knows that the ache in his chest isn’t anxiety.

“Fiiine, just… turn around, would ya?”

Noct does as told, but that doesn’t mean Prompto’s satisfied.

“And close your eyes.”

Prompto can’t even see his face to confirm whether or not he actually does it, but he decides that maybe—just maybe—Noct is trustworthy enough to assume that he did as told.

“And cover them with your hands!”

“Prom, really?” Noct asks, though Prompto hears more amusement than irritation in his voice, despite the exaggerated sigh as his hands move up to comply with Prompto’s demands.

“Listen, I'm not taking any chances with you after that time you grabbed me, Mister!”

Noct sputters, ears flushing bright even in the dim light as he tries and fails to make anything but words. It takes him so long to figure out how his mouth works that Prompto’s already stripping his tank off when he says, “It was an accident! Besides, you’re one to talk! You had your hand on my ass how many times today?!”

“Dude, I have to make sure you still have one after all the lazing around you do. Think about how disappointed Lady Lunafreya would be if her husband was assless?”

“Hey, I have an ass!”

“Yeah, sure, buddy,” he says with a laugh as he peels off the tight, black binder, letting loose a breath of sweet relief that came with the first opportunity he’s had to breath properly all day. But the absence of it reminds him of another issue as the air hits his bare skin, causing a shiver to rock his body. “Hey, uh… Don't suppose you have an extra shirt? Iggy had all of mine for washing… And the tank is a little…”

Tight, he wants to say, but the thought of how it would emphasize a part of his body that he hated second most was enough to make him cringe. But as always, Noctis doesn’t question him, doesn’t second guess whatever is on Prompto’s mind.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” he pauses to fish through the armiger a moment before retrieving one of his spare shirts and Prompto was grateful when he reached back without looking to hand it to him. He doesn’t scold him for pulling his hands away from his face to do it, either. “Here.”

“Thanks, man.”

It’s when the shirt is in his hands that he knows he’s been more than blessed by the Gods, given the friend that he has.

“Oh, Noct,” he whispers, tone exaggerated. “My favorite fabric. How did you know? Not even my nips will suffer tonight.”

He hears a huff of laughter from his friend, but the joke that follows has Prompto gasping in mock offense.

“It's my subtle way of saying, ‘Please keep your shirt on’.”

“Like you haven’t seen ‘em before, your highness.”

Both of them chuckle at that, knowing the truth of it. It’d be hard for Noct not to see his bare chest once of twice when he was constantly getting his ass kicked. How many times had he needed to help bandage a wound that he’d waited too long to grab a potion for?

Prompto pulls on the shirt offered to him, relishing in the familiar soft fabric that was easy even on the most sensitive of skin.

“Okay,” he says, signalling to Noct that he can finally turn back around. This time, their eyes meet and a smile lights Prompto’s face as Noctis opens up the space he’d previously closed off for his sake. He’s quick to settle into their makeshift sleeping bag, laying close—too close by the standards of some—to his friend and curling an arm around him. “Give me your best octopus impression.”

Noctis wastes no time in leeching off Prompto’s natural warmth while Prompto suffers a few minutes through the chill that’s settled into Noct’s limbs. He spots a hint of the same tired smile he’s been seeing all evening before it disappears into blond locks.

“Night, Prom,” Noct mutters, voice already slurred from sleep. He was going to wake up with a stiff back tomorrow. He was going to wish they'd never wandered out of Gladio and Ignis's field of vision, but he had none of those regrets right now.

“Night, Noct,” he whispers, the soft snoring he gets in response eliciting a giggle from him that fills his chest with warmth instead of the usual anxiety.

Nah, this couldn’t be counted among his regrets, no matter how sore his back would be come morning.

[vergilsangel]

Ok since requests are open, i'm going to send one in. - How would the Chocobros react to their girlfriend when they get into an argument she would just start mocking them (ex: crossing their eyes, walking stupid, wonky voice, ect).

A/N: Omg this is going to befun! I hope you like this, Anon XD Keep in mind, Prompto’s may seem a little OOC since I truly cannot see himangry with his S/O for whatever reason.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You and Noctis had beenfighting for over an hour. Neither of you were getting anywhere. You were tiredof his sleeping habits and he was now arguing about how you and Ignis were bothconspiring to get him to eat vegetables.

“How did we even starttalking about your eating habits? I said your sleeping habits, Noct!” Youshouted.

“All the time! Carrots this!Lettuce that! I’m so…” He had been pacing with his back to you and stopped whenhe looked at the television. In the reflection, he could see you silentlymocking him arguing by gesturing your hand that he was talking too much androlling your eyes.

“I can see you!” That madeyou stop, but didn’t end the argument. After another hour of fighting, you cameto a compromise. Every time he ate his vegetables, he could take a nap. Thiscompromise didn’t last long.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Ignis and you got intoan argument, it was always over something he couldn’t change. He had beenputting in long hours at the Citadel and it had begun to wear on you. Some daysyou could handle it, you understood how important his job was. But this was thefourteenth day in a row that he had been late coming home. And not just acouple hours late. It was well past three am when your boyfriend would comethrough the door.

You hadn’t picked the timingwell. The man was exhausted and fighting with you had been the last thing hewanted.

“Why is it so wrong that Iwant to see you, Iggy?” You demanded.

“It’s not. I just need you tounderstand how important my job is.” He retorted.

“Right, because Noctis can’ttake care of himself.”

“My job doesn’t JUST entailcaring for Noctis. I’m his Royal Advisor. I assist him with not just day-to-dayneeds but with meetings and when he…” He trailed off, seeing you roll your eyesand mock him.

“Oh, very mature. I thought Iwas having a conversation with an adult. I’ll wait until they come back!” Thatmade you stop and sigh. You managed to cool yourselves off before reaching anunderstanding. Ignis would be firmer with Noctis to handle things without him sohe could be home more often.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To ask the question of whatyou and Gladiolus were fighting about would be pointless. The better questionwould be what WEREN’T you fighting about. Right now, the two of you werefighting because a girl talked to him. Not just any girl, but one that had beenafter him for months.

“I know she likes you,Gladio. Why are you encouraging her? I thought you cared about me!” Youaccused.

“I wasn’t encouraging her! Ido care about you!” He countered.

“Sure you do. If you cared,you wouldn’t be flirting with everyone that crosses your path!”

“I do not! I talk to people!I get to know them! It’s not my fault that everyone starts to like me!” He hadbegun pacing but stopped when he noticed you rolling your eyes and mocking him.This only angers him more.

“You’re going to start onthis again?! Then I’ll leave!” He shouted and began heading for the door.

“Where are you going?” Youasked, angry that he was leaving in the middle of a fight.

“FOR A WALK!” He barked andslammed the door behind him. Once he would calm down, he would return to yourplace, pick you up into his arms, and show you just how much you mean to himand why no one else in the world matters to him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fights with Prompto were fewand far between. If something would upset him, he would bottle it up until itfestered causing him to explode at the most minor things. Most of the time, itwould be over something someone else did, but when the emotions would boilover, it was usually in your company.

This time, his camera wasmalfunctioning (It wasn’t) and he was getting angrier and angrier. When youasked if he needed help, he snapped at you. Unfortunately, you weren’t in themood to deal with his anger and your own lashed out.

“What’s your problem?” Yousnapped.

“My problem? This dumb cameraisn’t working, Gladio was yelling at me the whole time during training today,and when I come home to get away from all of it, I’m bombarded with questions!”He shouted, throwing the camera down on the table and standing up.

“I only asked one question!”

“I’m just so sick of everyonegetting on my case! Gladio thinks he’s so tough because he can wield thatbroadsword that’s the size of a house!” He ranted. You rolled your eyes andbegan mocking him, having heard this tirade before. Prompto stopped rantingwhen he saw you. He couldn’t help but break out into laughter at the sight.Seeing him laugh at you made you realize how ridiculous you appeared when youmocked him and it made you laugh too.

After apologizing for hisrant and you apologizing to him, you and he calmly talked through his anger atGladio. It’s nice to have somewhere safe to vent.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

BONUS RAVUS!!

You and Ravus would befighting about his position with the Imperial Army, your allegiance was withNoctis. It was a sore spot you had attempted to ignore, but eventually yourtemper got the best of you one day. You and Ravus fought for hours over hisallegiance to the Empire.

“It’s my decision! Not yours!I-“ He stopped when you began mocking him, his face growing still.

He turned and left the room,knowing there was no arguing with you when you resorted to mocking him. Youboth eventually come to terms to agree to disagree. Your relationship is moreimportant than politics.

[thesilencebeforeastorm]

"Regret" Gladio x Reader One-Shot (Angst)

Author's note: This was supposed to be a drabble buttttttt my mind had other plans. Prepare yourself for the feels train 😭

Btw, he isn't shirtless in the story, that last gif was just used for emotion purposes.

Word Count: 1,204

Tagging: @vundis-scientia @xylianna @arcticblade <---(idk if you like angst) @alicemoonwonderland

Prompt: #96 "She's dead..."

~

~

“So (Y/n), tell us about your friend from back home,” Prompto asked you.

The five of you surrounded the campfire after a long day while enjoying a meal Ignis had prepared. You and the guys had rambled about some things that went on during the day but now, it was story time.

“There's not much to say", you replied as you sighed.

“Oh come on. You only mentioned her once but never brought her up again. There has to be a lot to say about her. Is there anything you remember about? There has to be”, Prompto exclaimed.

“Come now Prompto, we mustn’t mettle in her business”, Ignis said.

“No no, it's fine Iggy. I was thinking. Umm… well I remember this one time we came across these really dangerous creatures out in Duscae. We were beyond scared but it had already saw us and it was too late to run. We started fighting but I was badly wounded and suddenly she left and never came back but -”, you said but was cut off.

“She's a coward”, Gladio said.

“What?”, you asked, wanting to make sure you heard him correctly.

“She left you in danger and took off. Some friend you had”, Gladio replied.

Wait what? You couldn't believe what you were hearing. How could Gladio be so rude to you out of all people? He didn't even let you finish your story. You were really offended by what he said as anger flowed into you, overpowering the sorrow you had just felt about your friend. You sat forward in your seat, leaning towards him.

“So, what? Everyone who leaves is now a coward? Cause last time I remember Amicitia, you took off running when you got your ass handed by Ravus.”, you said to him, coldly.

Everyone stood silent with their eyes wide. All you could hear was the crackling of the fire. No one could believe what you had just said. Everyone could feel the atmosphere around the campfire change as Prompto and Noctis were looking at each other while Ignis stood looking at you.

“Alright now, that's enou-", Ignis attempted to say before being cut off by Gladio.

“Now you know that's not why I left”, Gladio told you sternly as he gripped the handles of his chair, anger evident in his voice. You could feel his amber eyes just burning through your skin as he stared at you.

“Well you don't know why my friend left. See how stories sound when you don't let the other person finish?”, you replied.

He fell silent and just stared at you. Gladio was one for speaking his mind but his arguments were cut short by his silence. By his silence, you knew he was really upset.

“As I was saying, I thought my friend was never going to come back but but in actuality, she took off running from me to cause a distraction to the enemy. She saved my life.”

“W-where is she now?”, Prompto asked nervously.

You could feel your eyes watering and felt the pain in your throat from holding back the tears. This night went from a simple story to a disaster. You thought that by telling them how your friend saved your life, they would have a good impression of her but instead, Gladio had to call her a coward.You should've never agreed to talking about your friend.

“She's dead…”, you struggled to say as you covered your mouth from almost releasing a sob. Your friend was all you ever had and if it wasn't for her, you wouldn't have been here tonight. You couldn't hold it in no more as you choked out a sob and ran into your tent to let all your emotions go.

No one knew what to say as they all just stared at your tent, hearing your weeping. This story took a wrong turn since they didn’t expect your friend to be dead and didn't think that this story would go so far into an argument. Prompto felt really bad about bringing up the stupid question in the first place.

“Way to go Gladio”, Noctis finally said, breaking the silence.

Gladio sighed a deep, heavy sigh and rested his hand on his knee as he stared into the fire. He really felt like an ass. He let his pride get to him since he was Noct’s shield and never left his side. All his rage boiled down into regret and sadness as he got up from his chair and walked off the campsite. The guys didn't know if they should console you or not but it was probably best if they had just left you alone.

~~~

Later that night, Gladio stood outside your tent, questioning if he should go inside. He couldn't sleep as the thoughts of his words and seeing you cry burned him inside. He wanted to apologize and make things right between the two of you. Having tension in the car or around the guys wasn't going to be good either. He decided to crouch down and open the tent slowly to see if you were awake but you were sleeping. He didn't want to wake you up but he had to.

“(Y/n).. (Y/n)...”, Gladio said as he shaked your body to wake up.

You awoke to the sound of his voice and faced him but instead of feeling pleased by his presence, you just wanted to go away.

“What do you want", you replied as you faced away from him.

Your coldness pained him since you had never treated him like this before. He had comes to terms that he really messed up.

“(Y/n)... I'm sorry for the way I acted before. I should've let you finish your story and not let my pride get the best of me…I'm sorry...can you forgive me?”, he said.

You couldn't forgive him. At least not tonight. Yeah Gladio messed up but you knew that's how his mindset was. Not that his mindset is to be rude but that he was raised to be a protector, a shield and to never leave anyone abandoned. This still didn't give him the right to give an opinion to something he didn't know about.

You sighed. “You really hurt my feelings Gladio. I need some time to think about it”, you said.

Gladio sighed again as he looked down into the ground. “Alright…”, he said as he closed your tent and walked off. You then started to cry again. You wanted to call him back and hold you but you were so angry. It pained you to be like this with him.

Not even a minute after you began crying, Gladio opened the tent, went inside and pulled your body close into a tight embrace. He buried his head into the crook of your neck and felt tears running down his cheeks. He didn't want to be like this with you either. He couldn't leave you like that crying in the tent. You hugged him back tightly, thanking him in your mind that he came back. A hug wasn't going to fix it all in one night, but it made things a little okay.

[moonlight-at-dawn]

Anon Sent: If you're still taking prompts, how about Noctis not having a very good day so Luna just dotes on him? :)

Noctis lounged in a very large tree, arms folded under his head and looking up through the branches and leaves that shrouded him. He was, frankly, miserable in that moment. Visiting Tenebrae was usually wonderful, but this was the first time he came with any of his own attendants. Ignis had forced studying on him in the morning, since Luna had her own studies that weren’t put on hold for their visit, but he had intended to use that time to either sleep in or go exploring.

After lunch - a salad of pickled beans - was training with Gladio, and he still didn’t know how he felt about the older boy. They had an understanding, but he was still too harsh and gruff as he used some of the same motivation tactics that Noct assumed Clarus must have used on him. But they weren’t the same person, and Gladio’s pushing just made his temper flare, which he faced by removing himself from the situation, which led to greater arguments, and more often than not, Ignis had to act as a go-between to get them to see each other’s views. It had only been a few months, though, and they were making progress.

But all their progress seemed gone that day, it was like he was training with an entirely different person.

And it was all Ravus’ fault, in a way.

The young lord joined them in their training, doing his own thing. But for whatever reason, Gladio seemed to take it all as a challenge, and he pushed Noctis in his own training before ignoring him to train up against Ravus. Why? Noctis rolled his eyes at the posturing. Ravus was twenty, Gladio fifteen, what good was competing?

So he tried to just do his own thing, until Gladio got too worked up, too bold, and Noctis somehow ended up caught in the middle. He wasn’t even sure just what was happening, except that the end result was that it felt to him like they were fighting over who would get to pick on him.

The moment he had an opening, he had left them to their ridiculousness that older kids at school might call ‘dick-measuring,’ he mused bitterly. The usual time for training had passed anyways, though he had gotten less accomplished. With Luna still in classes, he had gone for a walk through the fields, to a lake that he and Luna would often spend time at during his visits, and that was where he had found a tree to hide in, in case anyone but her came looking for him. At this rate, he didn’t trust anyone else that day. He would need a night of sleep to trust the world again, since that day seemed intent on making him miserable.

As if to prove that point all the more, he sat up and hissed in pain suddenly, slapping at his back, and realized the tree he was lounging in was home to some very aggressive ants. He swore with language that he was glad no one was around to hear him use, and he jumped out of the tree and into the lake, shedding his clothes as he did.

Once he seemed free of the angered insects, he crouched there in the lake, glaring at his floating clothes, wondering just what the hell he was supposed to do now.

“Prince Noctis?” A sweet voice called out, and Noctis was hit at once with intense happiness to hear Luna, and acute embarrassment to realize he was completely naked. And before he could stammer out any kind of warning, she rounded the bend and came into view, and seemed relieved to see him. “There you are! I heard you disappeared after training.”

Sinking a bit into the water, he looked away with even greater embarrassment, suddenly feeling like the child he was for having run away. When he didn’t seem ready to respond, she kept talking, “I thought I might find you out here. I also thought you might not have changed after training, so I asked Ignis for a fresh set of your clothes to bring with me, so you could get out of sweaty clothing.”

Now that was an enormous relief, and she just smiled knowingly, clearly seeing his floating clothes. She then inspected a rock, dusting it off, and she set down the small bag of clothes. “Here. I’ll be nearby, while you change.”

She disappeared back around the bend, and he hesitated a moment longer before swimming in to sure. Drying off took forever, wiping himself of water over and over again before he finally felt like it was safe to get dressed. Letting out a heavy sigh as he pulled his shirt on, he glanced himself over and nodded, calling out shyly, “I’m dressed.”

He could hear her coming back and a moment later she was there with him, carrying a basket, and she laid out a padded picnic blanket and took a seat, smiling up at him in silent invitation. Joining her on the blanket and crossing his legs, he peered curiously as she reached into the basket and pulled out a container of neatly packed sandwich slices, and she handed one over to him. “I’m guessing you had the same lunch I did, today.”

“Beans,” he complained, and took a grateful bite of the sandwich as she nodded and tried not to laugh at his grave expression.

“You look like you’ve run a cross country obstacle course. What happened?”

He laughed at her description of his haggard looks, “You’re being generous, aren’t you? ...Or I’m being dramatic,” he sighed.

“Why don’t you tell me then, so we can figure it out?” she smiled.

She was beautiful, he was noticing more and more this particular visit, much to his embarrassment. Of course, he was plenty well educated on the physical matters of growing up, but reading about them was different from experiencing them, and he looked away shyly for what seemed the hundredth time, even more reserved than when they first met, in some ways.

Thankfully she had the wisdom not to question him about things like that, letting him work through his shyness on his own, with no attention brought to it.

“First lessons in the morning, which, I mean, I know it’s normal, but I wasn’t expecting it, and after travel, I’m tired,” he was rambling, letting it all out at once, even as he took bites of the food she had presented him with. “The lunch, which I couldn’t eat two bites of - no offense - and then, ugh, training! Who cares which of them can piss farther anywa-- ahhhhhhhhh, s-sorry...!” he flushed as he realized what he’d said.

She covered her mouth to smother a laugh, but his panicked look made her laugh even harder, and she reached out to pat his knee. “I don’t mind the expression, keep going.”

“Right, but, still...,” he mumbled, shaking his head to clear it and mustering a sheepish smile. “Well, it’s just, I mean, I think Gladio started it, but Ravus is old enough not to give in, but maybe it’s cause Gladio’s the same size as him even though he’s still just a teenager... I don’t know...,” he sighed, realizing he had started working through their motivations, the results of growing up with political power, he couldn’t just be petty over it all.

“He should know better, and I’ll tell him so myself,” she promised firmly, and he didn’t even try to ask her not to. She had that look about her that said she had reached the end of her patience on something, and it was best not to stand in her way. Besides that, he rather liked watching her scold Ravus, even if it meant some more bad blood between them. She was protective of Noctis, and Ravus was prone to speaking his mind when he should bite his tongue, which normally was no issue, but she never let him tease Noct, even in good fun.

Eyeing him as her scowl cleared, she gave him an encouraging smile and nodded towards his pile of soaked clothing. “And what took you into the water? Does it have something to do with why you can’t stop moving?”

He really should have known his fidgeting wasn’t subtle, the ant bites stinging something fierce. “....I was sulking in a tree that turned out to be home to an ant colony...”

She winced in sympathy immediately. “Would you like me to try to heal it? I think, I should be able to give you some relief, at least.”

That was what her afternoon training had consisted of - Learning healing magic from Oracle Sylva.

“Only if you aren’t tired from practice. It’s not worth stasis, I’m sure you guys got some ointment back at the manor, right?”

She nodded and smiled, scooting towards him on the blanket. “I have plenty of magic left, and since this is only skin deep, I think I can do it. At the very least, I can promise I won’t make anything worse,” she giggled, soothing any worries he might have had at how forward she was about her lack of experience.

“Well, then, go ahead. I wanna know what your magic feels like anyway,” he said without thinking, and he caught his breath and pursed his lips when he realized what he’d said. She didn’t react to it though, smiling at him and setting her hands on either side of his face. Then she leaned in and touched her forehead to his, each of them closing their eyes, and the warmth of her golden magic made him shiver as it passed over his skin and eased those bug bites.

Sighing with both relief and regret when she pulled away, Noctis blinked his eyes open slowly and smiled up at her, “Thanks, Luna. I feel a lot better now.”

“I’m glad!” she seemed truly relieved and grateful that it had worked, clasping her hands proudly in front of her chest.

“You’re gonna be an amazing Oracle.”

“Stars willing, we won’t know for some time,” she smiled, and she reached into the basket to change the topic, pulling out another container of food. She opened it to show him some of the Ulwaat berry pastries he had come to love, and he looked up at her, then back at it, and he took one hastily and she laughed. “Let’s stay out here until dusk. It’s too noisy at the manor today, I think.”

“Couldn’t agree more.”

[destiny-islanders]

You (Comrades Protag) + The Chocobros | Part II - Prompto

Part I - Gladio |

STRAP IN, FOLKS! I GOT CARRIED AWAY WITH THIS ONE. YOU AND PROMPTO ARE ABOUT TO GO ON AN ADVENTURE.

So after you eat Gladio’s I’m-Sorry-I-Gave-You-A-Concussion Cup Noodles, he gives you his phone number, just in case you figure out how to unlock your phone.

He knows that you’re a pretty big deal in Lestallum; people recognize you and know that you’re busting your ass to help keep the city safe. He asks you to keep him posted on Lestallum’s progress via Iris.

You and Iris become pretty good friends. And you take pictures of everything.

Pictures capturing the progress of construction projects around Lestallum

Pictures of your handwritten notes from your meetings with the elected leader of Lestallum, Holly, Cor, Libertus, Dave, and a handful of other key players in the power restoration efforts.

You even send him a photo of you and Iris posing in sweaters you knitted for each other by hand

Yes, you know how to knit now. When night falls, and the people of Lestallum are forced to hide within the safety of the city’s walls, they’re left restless, anxious, and with way too much time on their hands-- time to learn how to actually play a game of chess, time to learn how to play every single card game known to man, and time to hear just about everyone’s stories of loss and faint, fragile hope for a brighter future.

One day, Gladio texts Iris to let you know that a friend of his will be swinging through Lestallum soon, and that he might track you down for some combat practice.

Iris seems excited to see this friend of her brother’s. She says his name is Prompto and that you’re going to love him.

The name doesn’t ring a bell, and you have no idea what he looks like. You guess you’ll recognize him when he taps you on the shoulder and asks if it would be okay to beat you up behind the power plant.

Prompto shows up while Cid is tinkering with your favorite weapon, imbuing it with the power of that griffon feather you and your friends found yesterday. You take it from Cid and give it a few practice swings, testing out its weight, admiring its shine in the light.

Prompto: “Yikes. Hope you don’t end up hitting me with that thing lmao”

Turns out that, just like Gladio, you’ve seen this guy before. He’s another one of the prince’s royal retainers. He was a last-minute addition, with next to no formal training. But you guess he must at least have some kind of raw talent, to have survived this long as a hunter.

The extent of your former interactions with Prompto: You were collecting herbal ingredients in Duscae for a medicinal remedy that a sickly friend of yours desperately needed. You’d just about gathered everything you needed when you heard screaming from across the lake. You glanced in the direction of the noise and saw a cotoblepas charging towards two tiny figures standing way too damned close to the water.

You: “SHIT SHIT SHIT”

It’s a good thing you didn’t spare a second to think this through, because you would have realized how stupid you were being if you had. Instead of trying to warp around the lake, you decided to warp straight across it. Your intentions were noble; you wanted to help these people as quickly as you could.

But yes you fell into the water and approximately twenty-seven (27) gallons of it shot up your nose. But you chucked your weapon into the air and kept going 

You barreled into one of the people fleeing the cotoblepas and warped, putting as much distance as you could between yourselves and the beast. You put a hand on the person’s shoulder, shouted, “Stay!” and got ready to warp back for the other.

Turned out you didn’t have to bother; the other idiot could warp, too.

You: “...Prince Noctis?”

YEP! Prompto knew that you were a Glaive and was waaaaaay too intimidated by you to lie. He explained that they essentially Did It For The Vine. 

Did the key to the salvation of Eos almost get himself trampled by a cotoblepas for a photo?????

Prompto showed you the photo.

You: “Okay that’s actually pretty sick, bro”

Noctis: “Hell yeah”

You: “Oh shit my fucking weeds”

Prompto: “Your what now”

Prompto and Noctis understandably felt guilty when they realized that the herbs you had worked so hard to collect for your friend were soaked, dirtied, and ruined because you fell into the lake. They helped you collect more before you parted ways.

Prompto: “So... Gladio said you might be down for some sparring?”

You lead him to the Lestallum equivalent of the bicycle rack: the same quiet corner where Gladio had brooded in a constant state of exhaustion.

No one cleaned up the crates you broke with your body in the back of the alleyway...

Prompto: “Go easy on me, ‘kay?”

This guy is smaller and more noodly than Gladio. You hope that means you actually stand a chance this time.

Nope. Wrong. Bitch you thought. You don’t. One second you’re standing there, getting ready to fight, the next, you’re frozen in place and unable to do anything but watch as Prompto takes a selfie with your petrified body

No sooner have you regained yourself than he’s casting Starshell and inflicting you with confusion.

Where are you? What are you doing here? What day is it? Who’s President?

Why are you asking that? Lucis has a monarchy?

You literally end up putting your weapon down and sitting by a dumpster, your head spinning and your thoughts a muddled, confusing mess in your head

Prompto sits down next to you and listens to you rant and rave, riding out the status effect until it’s run its course

You, Confused: “Why do they call it instant ramen when it takes three minutes to cook”

You, Confused: “That’s not instant”

You, Confused:  “Does it hurt grass when we step on it?”

You, Confused:  “Why are bees”

Prompto: “Why are bees what?”

You, Confused: “Just. Why. Why are bees”

You, Somehow Even More Confused Than Before:  “Tissue fabric running tire folder clean”

Prompto: *Is trying so hard not to fucking laugh right now. Literally he has never seen someone react this way to the confusion status ailment* “That’s right. Let it all out.”

You finally come back to yourself and look at Prompto for what feels like the first time.

You: “Did... did I win?”

Prompto: “I’d call it a tie.”

You don’t spar again that day. You just hang out.

You will fight again a few more times! Turns out he’s not so tough once you manage to dodge his attacks and get in close.

Punch him! He bleeds!

Please don’t punch him. He bleeds. :(((((((

The score ends up being 4-3 in Prompto’s favor. You try to argue that the first fight shouldn’t count because of the Status Ailment Hell he banished you to, but Prompto won’t hear a word of it

You’ll get him next time

You think Prompto’s great! You can’t remember the last time you laughed this much. It feels good to laugh. There’s not much to laugh at in this dark day and age.

Prompto gives you his number before he leaves Lestallum. You promise you’ll text him when you remember your passcode.

That leaves Iris to once again be an intermediary between you and another Chocobro, though this one is more for fun than it is with Gladio-- since most of your communications are related to relief efforts around Lucis.

IRIS’S PHONE BECOMES A HUB FOR POST-APOCALYPTIC MEMES

It’s like a “laugh in one eye, cry in the other” situation

You guys end up texting so much that Iris can’t take it anymore. A friend of hers in Old Lestallum has an unlocked smart phone and gives it to you until you can unlock your own.

The meme-ing gloves are off now. Uh-oh.

Group chat with Gladio and Iris. Prompto names the group “Annoying the Amicitias”

Where has Prompto been all your life? You’re memesters in crime

Fast-forward seven months. Iris bursts into your tent in the middle of the night in tears.

Iris: “I just got a call from Gladio. Prompto went with some hunters on a supply run. They haven’t come back. They’re all missing.”

You’re getting out of bed and reaching for your jacket in an instant

You: “I’m going.”

Iris: “I’m coming with you.”

Gladio promises he’ll meet you in Hammerhead, and that Iggy’s coming, too.

You have no idea who Iggy is, but Iris looks happy about that news, so you will be, too

You don’t tell Gladio that Iris is coming with you.

He’s going to be PISSED.

AT YOU.

WHY DO YOU GO OUT OF YOUR WAY TO MAKE THIS GUY ANGRY 

HAVE YOU NO FEAR

Continued under the cut!

You and Iris meet Cindy in her garage, and she explains what had happened. She and Prompto had been talking about those special headlights that can be used to keep daemons away. If the possibility even existed that there were more in Insomnia, it had to be looked into. With the nights growing longer, it would soon become suicide to drive between safe havens without them.

A search party had been sent to Insomnia a week after the original group had left. They’d made it to the city, but they couldn’t find Prompto or the hunters anywhere-- alive, or dead.

You: “What if they never made it to Insomnia?”

Gladio: “Or they made it to Insomnia, but were on their way back when they were attacked?”

Cindy: “Will be a right mess if either one o’ them is the case. They could be anywhere between here ‘n there.”

Gladio: “And splitting up to cover more ground is out of the question.”

Iris: “So what do we do, Gladdy?"

Ignis: “We travel in pairs.”

You witness the True Power of the Amicitia Family when Iris and Gladio get into a spectacular argument about whether or not Iris should join the rescue mission.

You and Cindy kind of watch them bicker in awe. The way that I imagine one of the humans in Jurassic Park watched in awe as the dinosaurs fucking killed each other.

Gladio finally relents. BUT. Iris has to travel with him. Ignis, still trying to adjust to life as a blind man, will travel with them, as well.

Gladio hadn’t even tried to tell Ignis to stay behind for this one.

Ignis devises a plan for the rescue mission.

You all create five search parties and plan out the routes each of you will take with a map. At this point, there are only a few hours of light each day, so the plan is to drive out together in two trucks, fan out and search the area, and then return to the car and drive back as it starts to get dark.

The keys are left in the glove compartment of the unlocked car. Six forbid that the person with the keys gets killed or goes missing, leaving the survivors stranded without an escape vehicle

You get paired up with a hunter named Kravyn. You’d worked with him on a few hunts before. He’s as capable a hunter as anyone.

You both get out of the truck and head northeast. It already seems like the sky is growing darker. Are the days even shorter now? Will the time come when the sun doesn’t rise at all?

Iris and Prompto seem convinced that Prince Noctis will return before that happens. 

You do your best to not lose hope that he’ll return at all.

The clock is ticking. The timer you’d set on your phone shows that you only have fifteen minutes before you need to head back.

That’s when you see blood in the grass.

You follow it.

The trail leads you through the grass and into the woods. It’s so dense... you can barely fit between the trees. It’s so dark beneath the canopy of leaves overhead that you have to take out your flashlight so that you can see the blood splattered around.

The blood leads you to a corpse. It’s not Prompto’s.

You take the dog tags. They belonged to a woman named Janda.

Kravyn: “Fuck. Fuck. We gotta head back. This is way too dangerous.”

You: “I’m not leaving. We still have... seven minutes. The rest of them could still be alive somewhere.”

To Kravyn’s credit, he doesn’t abandon you. You can tell he’s terrified, but he stays by your side and helps you search.

The alarm on your phone starts to beep right when you see a boot jutting out from behind the trunk of a tree.

It’s Prompto. You’ve found him.

He’s covered in blood. His eyes are closed. He’s not moving.

You: “SHIT SHIT SHIT”

You snatch a hi-elixir from your back and break it over his head, since he’s covered in so much blood that you can’t even tell where he’s injured and you don’t want to waste time poking around trying to find out where.

He lets out a soft moan when you give him the curative. He’s still alive! Thank the Six!

Why didn’t you check for a pulse first? You could have wasted a precious curative on a corpse!!!

You: “You’re hurt, Prompto. Tell me where.”

Prompto: “Everywhere.”

You: “YOU ARE BEING VERY UNHELPFUL RIGHT NOW.”

You end up giving him two more elixirs. He’s still in a pretty bad way, but his breathing is significantly less labored, and his pulse feels strong enough to repair some of your confidence about his chances of survival.

Kravyn: “This is great that we found Prompto and everything, but we really should be heading back.”

You, Reaching to Pick Him Up: “Right. Up we go, Prompto.”

Prompto: “I can walk.”

He moves his right leg a little bit and stops immediately.

Prompto: “I lied.”

You: “As I was fucking saying. Up we go, Prompto.

Prompto: “Omg I’m so heavy you’ll never make it.”

Is Prompto heavy, or are you just really strong? Both? Neither? Who cares? What matters is that you’re able to pick him up and carry him without too much trouble.

You can pinpoint the exact moment he passes out because he stops apologizing for how heavy he is and for making everyone worry and for the fact that you risked your life to find him

You and Kravyn make it back to the truck. Everyone else has already returned, but the plan had been to wait an hour before heading back to Hammerhead, so they had all been waiting for you.

Iris starts crying again when she sees Prompto. Even Gladio gets really quiet and dewey-eyed. Ignis rests his hand on Prompto’s chest, as if to feel his heartbeat.

Ignis: “Bloody idiot. Thank the Six...”

Prompto is the only missing hunter the rescue team was able to find.

Iris found a dog tag. Including the dog tag you’d found, that leaves two of the missing hunters still unaccounted for.

You all agree that you’ll head back out again tomorrow to search further north.

You take Prompto back to Hammerhead to get proper medical treatment. He’s going to be okay.

[catlady1986]

THE BEST SMELL IN THE WORLD IS THAT OF THE ONE YOU LOVE.

Chapters: 4/9 Fandom: Final Fantasy XV Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/? Characters: Gladiolus Amicitia,  Noctis Lucis Caelum, Prompto Argentum, Ignis Scientia, background characters, others to appear later Additional Tags: ABO, Soulmates, Language, Blood, Depression, Angst, Referenced Masturbation, Deviant Behavior

*I’m not posting this anymore on the kinkmeme after this due to taking a more not so nice take on a character that those on the meme turn into rabid banshees to protect from any perceived bashing. So I’ll just be slowly updating it on here for those who may still read this fic.

Previous Next

After noticing how Ignis had reacted when the blonde entered the apartment, Gladio kept an eye on them both, watching the subtle gestures and body language when they were in each other’s vicinity. And on the off chance they were to lock eyes, Gladio swore he saw sparkles before the glasses wearing teen would act oddly disgruntled and turn away. It was like all the others Gladio had seen that ended up together. So there was no doubt about it, the two were soulmates. However, it would seem that someone didn’t agree and that threw the older man off though. Ignis’ reaction when Gladio broached the subject the day after was surprising, with him acting hostile and almost offended at the notion.

“You are clearly mistaken, Gladiolus, and you should not make baseless assumptions like that.” Ignis snaps, acting twitchy as his face becomes red.

“Iggy, the two of you were batting your eyelashes at one another half the night and blushing like nuns in a porn shop whenever you were close. Not to mention your nose would twitch whenever he’d walk by. And when he hugged you, you all but had your nose buried in his neck.”

“My nose twitched from the choice of body spray he had bathed himself in before arriving, it was horrid and suffocating. You should count yourself lucky to have not been able to smell it.” he huffs and shakes his head. “Really, I will never understand the obsession with using a whole can of body spray on oneself every day. Plus I shoved my face into his neck to not be rude and to hide my disgust of that horrid spray.”    

“Ignis, I know what I saw.”

“No you don’t! He is not my soulmate! My soulmate is-” he snarls but then stops and collects himself by taking a deep breath. “I do not believe I have met mine yet or it is possible they haven’t started producing pheromones yet. There are some despite presenting that don’t give off a scent until they are well into adulthood or those who use suppressants or blockers. So just, stop Gladio.”

But he doesn’t and starts laughing. Not a “this is funny” laugh, but a “you gotta be kidding me” laugh.

“Un-fucking-believable. I’m mean wow, never would I have pegged you as being so arrogant.”

The younger man’s eyes slit. “What?”

“I mean really, your destined love, the one meant just for you was just plopped into your lap and you have the balls to get mad because he’s not the one you wanted while your friend who wants to find theirs can’t because fate gave them the middle finger. So what is it, Ignis? He not up to your high standards or is it because of your dream to be the one to claim and knot h-” A stinging slap to his face cuts Gladio off. Blood trickles down from his nostrils and a deep rage begins building inside him.

“Do not put words in my mouth Gladio, especially ones that are salacious and unfounded. I’m telling you he is not my soulmate and your accusation is deplorable and you should feel ashamed.”

Gladio doesn’t waver though and grits his teeth as he futility wipes at the blood dripping down his face. “So then what were all the eye batting and little blushes for?”

“I was blinking more due to standing over a hot stove and my eyes getting dry. The blushing was embarrassment from the crude talk coming from yours and the other two’s mouths. I really expected better from you Gladio and your obsession with all this soulmate nonsense is warping your mind. Keep this delusional nonsense up and you won’t have friends left, I for one won’t be and just do what is needed when it pertains to his highness. Not to mention your mental state may be called into question and you may be deemed unfit as a member of the guard.”

This incenses Gladio even more, he would never allow himself to become so obsessed with something that he’d make rash or immoral decisions that could cause harm to others. And he has seen the same signs over a dozen times before and had not been wrong once. If anyone was being delusional it was Ignis. There was no way he was wrong about this, there couldn’t.

Could it?

“You’re bleeding.” a voice gasps out.

The two men turn to look at the prince who stares in concern at his shield and Gladio hears a faint scoff off to the side as Noctis begins to step closer to him.  

Gladio just grunts softly while wiping his nose again and nudges the teen’s hand away before turning to walk towards the locker rooms. “My allergies are getting bad again. So just train with Ignis.”

He ignores the calls and heads into the locker room, sealing himself into one of the changing stalls and resting his head back against the wall with a deep sigh. Doubt and his own low self-esteem are eating away at him, making him question everything he has noted on the soulmate matter up to this point.

Maybe he was becoming obsessed, maybe they were just good guesses or just blatantly obvious. Gods, what had he done? He wants to cry, punch a wall, scream, curse fate for fucking him over, apologize, to be able to breathe through his damn nose for more than just a couple days. He’ll never be happy, never feel euphoric, never feel unconditional love, never find his soulmate. He fucked up, all because he assumed and stubbornly stuck to his guns in hopes it was true and he had solved the puzzle of finding his love. Then by hurling insults and allegations at his friend in a fit of rage. He was stupid.

“Hey.”

Gladio looks up and sees Noctis leaning over the separator between his and the other stall. “Noct, get down.”

“Then unlock the door and let me come in.”

“No, you have training to do.”

“Don’t have anyone to train with.”

“What about Ignis?”

“He left, said he had a migraine.”

“Hmm.” Gladio grunts and unlocks the latch finally, allowing the younger teen entry.

“So what made you two get into an argument?” Noctis asks as he takes a seat next to his friend.

“We were not arguing.”  

“You have a welt in the shape of a hand and Ignis’ palm was red. Doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together.”

“Yeah, but sometimes your assumptions can be wrong.” he says with a sigh.

Noctis goes to reply but is cut off when Gladio lets out a mighty sneeze, followed by a few more.

“Sonuvabitch.” Gladio grumbles and wipes at his nose then tries breathing but finds he’s stuffed up. “Guess this is my punishment for being an asshole.” he says with a nasally tone.

“So tell me what was the fight about and don’t tell me it was nothing. I know when the both of you are mad.”

The older man purses his lips but lets out a deep sigh. “I told Ignis that I believed him and your blonde friend were soulmates based off of body cues I saw others have. He vehemently refuted my claim and I took some petty jabs at him.”

“He doesn’t think so?” Noct asks furrowing his brows and leaning his head back, “Huh, that’s odd. Prompto was sure they were too. He was all excited and wouldn’t shut up about. I almost suffocated him with my pillow.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, said he felt all tingly and warm after Ignis and him locked eyes, then even more when Ignis breathed in his scent and held him tighter when they hugged.”

“Huh, you don’t say.” Gladio grumbles and rubs at his nose.

“So Ignis denied it?”

“Yup, nastily too.” he says and frowns. “Maybe blondie is mistaken, as well as me.”

“No, I don’t think that’s true. I never saw Prompto so happy and it was all genuine. Maybe Ignis is denying it because he’s afraid it will cause a rift between us or that it will take his focus from his duties away?”

Both of those points were possible, along with something else that Gladio just tosses into the abyss of his mind.

“Could be.” he says with a sigh. “I probably should apologize to him though, I let my anger get the best of me.”

“You both did and both do.” Noctis says and nudges his shield. “So let’s go train and then head back to my place, I’m sure he’ll be there later anyway.”

“Yeah, sure.” Gladio says and then raises an eyebrow when the prince offers a hand to him. He goes to take it, but stops and sneezes multiple times. “Ah shit.” he grunts and sniffles as Noctis chuckles, making him smile. “Heh, guess my soulmate must have been thinking about me.”

The younger teen smiles back at him. “I believe they were.” he says and offers his hand out again.

Something clicks in the shield’s mind, that maybe the sneezes were more than just his allergies as Noctis had suggested. No, probably not, fate wasn’t that kind to him.

[dawne-sharlotte]

A Change In Schedule (Cor x Ignis)

Slightly NSFW. Trying something new. Let me know what you think

@hypaalicious @zimmer2d @nagekiweki

Ignis always struggled to pay attention in early morning council meetings. Why anyone needed to debate the lane width of the roads at seven thirty in the morning baffled him. These meetings threw off his start of day routine as well. He had to rely on Gladio or Prompto to make sure Noctis got up for school and he only had time for one cup of Ebony instead of three.

He continued to ignore the droning of the council member and turned his attention back to proofreading Noct’s essay on Lucian history. At least it looked like he was taking notes. After two hours of suffering through the same arguments, Ignis could finally leave and work on the mountain of paperwork on his desk before training with Gladio.

As he packed up his belongings, he was stopped by the king. “Your Majesty.” He bowed.

Regis clapped him on the shoulder. “No need for formalities, Ignis. How did you find the meeting?”

“Honestly, rather droll. All of the arguments have been introduced numerous times and yet no solutions have been noted. The roads are wider than standard specifications, so I don’t see the need for further modification.” Ignis pushed his glasses up on his nose.

“I agree. I really stopped to ask you to do a favor for me.”

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

“Cor wasn’t feeling well this morning, so I gave him the day off. Could you check in on him? Normally, I would send Clarus, but I need him present for some meetings today.”

Ignis nodded. “As you wish.”

The king winked and limped to where Clarus awaited him. “Thank you. I’m positive he’ll be good as new with you around.”

Ignis quickly made his way to his office, trying not to blush at the king’s words, and put the paperwork that needed to be looked over urgently in his briefcase. He grabbed the duffle bag he kept at the Citadel and headed down to the parking garage.

He placed the bag and the briefcase in the passenger seat of his car and got in. As soon as he was on the road, he called Gladio.

“Sup, Iggy?”

“I’m afraid I’m going to miss training. Also, could you pick Noct up from school? There is food for him and Prompto in the refrigerator. The king asked me to run an errand and it will take longer than I anticipated.” He stopped at a red light.

“No problem. Let me know when you wanna reschedule and I’ll make sure the princess eats.”

Ignis chuckled. “Thank you, Gladio.” He ended the call and continued the drive when the light turned green.

Cor’s home was on the very edge of the city. Even though it wasn’t high traffic time, it still took forty-five minutes to get there. The two story red brick house stood alone in the area. There were enough trees to give it some semblance of privacy.

Ignis parked in the driveway that led to the back of the building and let himself in through the door that led into the kitchen. He put his bag and case by the door. He put some water in the tea kettle on the stove to let it heat and went in search of Cor.

Ignis knew his lover’s home better than his own apartment. They’d agreed to keep the relationship under wraps, although, Ignis was sure the king knew. Probably Clarus as well. He would make a note to ask Cor about it later.

He found Cor slumped on the couch surrounded by applications for the Kingsglaive.

The older man was still in his sleep pants and a wrinkled shirt. The flush on his cheeks, a physical sign of a fever.

Ignis stacked the applications and put them on the table and bent to kiss Cor’s forehead.

He blinked slowly a few times until the younger man came into focus. “Ignis? What are you doing here?”

“A favor for the king.” He helped Cor up and to the bedroom down the hall. The master bedroom was upstairs, but Ignis was positive Cor didn’t have the energy to make it that far.

“Don’t you have a council meeting this morning?” Cor feebly struggled against attempts to settle him in bed. Eventually, he gave up when a coughing fit wracked his body. “Besides, I have those applications to go through.”

Ignis pushed the other man into the pillows and tucked the covers in around him. “I will help you go through them when you don’t have a fever and I already had the meeting. It’s noon.” He rested his forehead against Cor’s. “Your fever is higher than I thought. I’ll be right back.” He closed the blinds and pulled the curtains to darken the room.

He went back to the kitchen to take the kettle off the heat. It wasn’t needed after all. He filled a glass with water, wet a cloth, and grabbed his briefcase. When he got back to the room, Ignis placed the water on the table next to Cor and lay the cloth on his head.

Cor sighed at the cooling feeling and relaxed. His breathing evened out into soft snores.

Ignis sat next to him on the bed and worked on reports by the soft lamplight.

Some hours later Cor woke with a dry throat and the smell of food wafting through the air. He sat up and noticed the water on the side table. Drinking it slowly, he decided to shower. The sticky sensation of dried sweat overpowered his need for food. He brushed his teeth, bathed, and put on a new pair of sweatpants. The towel he used to dry his hair still around his shoulders as he went to the kitchen.

The younger man stood at the stove, stirring in a large pot, while he read a book. He’d long since lost the jacket and his shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. He looked to the side where Cor stood in the doorway. “How are you feeling?”

“Much better, thanks to my own personal caretaker.” He levered away from the spot and came to stand behind Ignis, his arms around his waist.

Ignis hummed his approval. “You could have told me you were sick.”

“I knew you were busy today. I couldn’t ask you to shirk your duties to take care of an old man.” He pressed a kiss to the back of the advisor’s neck.

“You aren’t old.” Ignis turned off the stove and set his book on the counter. He turned in Cor’s arms and linked his hands behind the other’s neck. “I still wish you’d told me. Finding out from the king makes me uncomfortable.”

“I’m sorry, babe.” Cor kissed him and felt him melt. The only time he saw the younger relax was when they were together. He raised a hand to cup Ignis’ face. “What’s for dinner?” He murmured.

Ignis smiled, a sight Cor still wasn’t used to, and stirred the pot. “Anak stew. I figured it was light enough if you still weren’t feeling well. Now, go sit down so I can finish.”

Cor stole one last kiss and sat at the table. He started working on the stack of applications with renewed energy. He lost track of his surroundings until Ignis placed a bowl of steaming stew next to him.

Ignis sat across from him with a bowl and his own stack of paperwork. His phone vibrated before he even got through the first report. “Hello, Noct.”

Cor couldn’t hear what was being said, but he watched his lover remove his glasses and pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“I’m sorry that you find Gladio embarrassing. I will be picking you and Prompto up tomorrow. Of course, Noct. Goodnight.” Ignis sighed and rolled his eyes.

“What was that about?”

“His Highness does not approve of my stand in.”

The Marshal chuckled and reached across the table to take the other’s hand. He rubbed his thumb across Ignis’ bare knuckles. “You are irreplaceable.” The slight flush and shiver did not go unnoticed. “Are you staying tonight?”

Ignis cleared his throat. “If that’s not too much trouble. I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

Cor threaded his fingers with Ignis’. “I want you to stay. It’s not often I get to enjoy your company. Besides, I wouldn’t have given you a key If I didn’t want you here.”

Ignis nodded and they ate in silence, hands joined.

When they were finished, Cor took their dishes to the sink, while Ignis put the leftovers away.

“Come to bed. The rest of this can wait,” Cor said when Ignis started working again.

The younger went to shower and emerged in sweatpants and bare-chested.

Cor felt his mouth go dry. “No matter how many times I look at you, I’m in awe at how beautiful you are.”

“Please don’t say things like that.” His blush was apparent, even in the low light.

Cor sat on the bed and pulled Ignis between his legs. “Close your eyes and just feel, babe.” He ran his hands over the smooth, lithe yet defined torso. Kisses followed in the wake of his hands. He loved the feeling of Ignis’ body under his fingertips. Loved the taste as he pulled Ignis in his mouth. Loved the moans and gasps that fell from Ignis’ lips as he thrust into him and set a rhythm. Loved the look of bliss on Ignis’ face as he climaxed.

The Marshal stared at his lover while he slept in arms. “I love you, Ignis Scientia. I have never known a love like I feel for you.” he whispered.

The Advisor smiled. “I’ll have to change my schedule around more often if it gets such declarations from you.”

[faierius]

In His Shoes (7. Sleep on it)

Chapter One (Can’t We All Just Get Along?)

Chapter Two (Out Of Body Experience)

Chapter Three (We Don’t Talk About That)

Chapter Four (My Body Won’t Change My Heart)

Chapter Five (Myth and Mystery)

Chapter Six (Baby Steps)

               “You gotta take them out before bed.”

               “I’m not sticking my fingers in my eyes.”

               “Gladio, you gotta! You can’t sleep with contacts in.”

               “Why the hell do you wear them, anyway? Why can’t you just stick with glasses like Iggy?” Gladio’s shoulders fell and his lip protruded in a pout.

               “Because they cramp my style, man. C’mon, you want me to take ‘em out for you?”

               Gladio leaned back, flicking a nervous glance at Ignis. “No offense, Prompto, but you’re already kinda clumsy in your own body. I don’t really trust you not to gouge my eye out. And you don’t want your body back half blind, do you?”

               Prompto flopped onto his back on the thin, lumpy mattress. He let out a groan and eyed Ignis. “Help me out here, dude.”

               “I can always take them out if you’d rather?” Ignis suggested, leaning forward and propping an elbow on his knee.

               “I would much rather,” sighed Gladio, though he didn’t sound thrilled with the prospect.

               “Not like I do it daily or anything,” grumbled Prompto, folding his arms behind his head.

               Smirking, Noctis reached over and patted the man’s belly. “Relax, buddy.”

               Ignis smiled as he got up and crossed the small space to where Gladio sat. He moved between the man’s legs and had him look up. With careful, deft fingers, Ignis removed the contact lenses and put them in the little case Prompto provided.

               “There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Ignis asked, patting Gladio’s cheek.

               Off to the side, Noctis stuck his tongue out and pretended to gag. Prompto grinned.

               “Very mature, boys,” Ignis sighed, rolling his eyes. Giving Gladio’s face another caress, he returned to his seat.

               Sitting up, Prompto watched Gladio blink rapidly and rub his eyes. “Oh, it’s not that bad,” he scolded.

               “Nothing’s even blurry with them out,” Gladio grumbled, glaring at the man. “Why do you wear those damned things?”

               “Can’t aim a gun if you can’t see the target,” he replied.

               “I’m not putting them back in tomorrow.”

               “You have to! I have an image to maintain, dude.”

               “Your glasses are fine.”

               Prompto tried to break out his puppy dog eyes, but it wasn’t quite as convincing on Gladio’s face. “Dude, it won’t kill you to do this one thing for me.”

               Gladio shrugged. “I just don’t see what the big deal is.”

               “I haven’t worn my glasses in public since before high school. It’s important to me.” Folding his hands in his lap, he lowered his eyes.

               Noctis and Ignis watched silently, waiting to see how Gladio would answer.

               Brows drawn together, Gladio groaned low in his throat and thumped his head against the wall behind him. “Fine! Fine, I’ll wear ‘em.”

               “Thank you. I’ll help you put them in in the morning.” Relief was clear in Prompto’s entire body, even if his smile didn’t immediately return.

               “Well, not that we’ve settled that, and cleaned up the mess Prompto made attempting to shower, I think we should discuss our main problem,” Ignis told the others, hooking one leg over the other and leaning his elbow on the small table next to him.

               “Did you find anything different from what Dave told us?” Noctis asked, pulling his feet up onto the bed to sit cross-legged.

               “Unfortunately, no, but I have put thought into the matter.”

               Gladio huffed out a breath, his lips curving in a half-smile. “Well, your thoughts have never steered us wrong before. Whatcha got?”

               “The first, and quite likely last, time Tuudoh was seen happened to be shortly after its creation. This tells me it is tied to a very specific kind of discord because there is no chance other duos or groups haven’t gone their separate ways in the last forty or so years since it came into being.”

               “We could try asking the Marshall?” Prompto interrupted, hope filling his eyes.

               “I already thought of that, actually. I sent him a message earlier to no avail.”

               “He didn’t have anything to say?” Noctis questioned.

               “I’m afraid I never received an answer at all. Nor would he pick up when I phoned. No matter, I’m sure we can work this out on our own. As I was saying, there have probably been many teams who have argued and split up, yet there is no record of our daemon. I believe it can sense something, shall we say, special.”

               “Special,” Gladio repeated with a quirked brow.

               “I assume it only attacks those it considers a viable threat. However, in our current state, with our current argumentative headspace, we are no threat. Tuudoh sensed our power as a group, felt what we are capable of, and put this curse on us to eliminate the threat. Or the spirits living inside it sensed we, like them, work for the people, and it couldn’t handle the connection to its former life.”

               “So, it’s a cranky kid holding a grudge,” Noctis muttered, shaking his head.

               “Essentially, yes. Tuudoh is still in its infancy as far as other daemons are concerned. It seems to work more on instinct than some of the others we’ve had the misfortune of dealing with.”

               While Noctis and Prompto nodded their understanding, Gladio frowned.

               “How do you know that? I had a hard enough time keeping an eye on myself and Noct, never mind studying that thing,” he said.

               “It’s my job to observe, take in all available information, and form a plan. I am quite capable of doing so on the fly,” Ignis answered.

               “Yeah, I know that, but—”

               “No but. I will do my job no matter my mood.”

               Gladio raised his hand to waylay an argument. “Okay, okay. So, what are we going to do about this?”

               “We need to vanquish Tuudoh.”

               “Well, duh,” groaned Noctis, propping his chin in his hand.

               “How’re we going to summon it back?” Prompto asked. “Stand in a field and whistle?”

               “The sarcasm is unwarranted, Prompto.”

               “Sorry, but like, the question is valid. If we need to kill it, we have to find it again, first,” he reiterated.

               “I believe it will find us. As I said, at our best, we are a threat. It will want to eliminate us, but we won’t give it another chance.”

               Noctis stared at Ignis for a moment before groaning and letting his chin drop to his chest. “This is so dumb!” he complained. “The only reason we aren’t getting along is because of the cramped quarters we’ve had for days. It’s a passing thing. We’ve dealt with it before, and we’ll deal with it again.”

               Ignis made a small, vague gesture with one hand. “Maybe so, but perhaps this will teach us to deal with our petty disputes before they get out of hand. Even you must admit, we’ve gotten carried away this time.”

               “Okay, yeah. Fine. It’s pretty bad.”

               “But we’re getting along fine now?” Prompto glanced between Ignis and Noctis.

               Gladio got to his feet and stretched, able to do so completely in Prompto’s body. “Yeah, but the tension’s still there. At least we don’t stink anymore.”

               “And we have more room to sleep,” Noctis added.

               “Things will improve in time, as always, but I’m unsure how much time we have before this curse is irreversible.”

               The men fell silent for a long while, contemplating their situation.

               “Maybe this will wear off?” Prompto eventually muttered, peeking at Ignis from under his brows.

               “While there is still a small chance of that happening, it is becoming less and less likely,” Ignis replied with a small shake of his head.

               Sighing and scrubbing a hand through his hair, Noctis looked to his Advisor. “What do we do now, Specs? I’m at a loss this time.”

               “We go back to basics. Training routines in pairs and as a group. When we aren’t doing that, I feel it would be worth it to try and rekindle the bonds we share.”

               “Meaning what, exactly?” Gladio asked.

               Ignis shifted in his seat and blinked at Gladio like the answer was obvious. When the man only stared back, waiting, Ignis had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. “Enjoy our downtime. Play video games, go for runs, look through Prompto’s photos together. Things we enjoy doing.”

               Prompto nodded enthusiastically. “Makes sense.”

               Noctis tossed a quick glance at his boyfriend, frowning. “Sounds to me like we’re just twiddling our thumbs.”

               A low grumble of frustration vibrated in Ignis’ throat as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Then what would you suggest, Highness? Do you know of some formula or concoction to reverse this never-before-seen magic? Or perhaps you’d like to rush into danger again to fix this?”

               Leaning forward with a dark glower on his face, Noctis opened his mouth to spit some reply at the man when Gladio stepped between them. He held up his hands and looked from one man to the other.

               “Calm down, guys. This is exactly what we’re trying to avoid, remember? Maybe we should just go to bed and start fresh in the morning.”

               Taking a slow, deep breath, Ignis closed his eyes for a moment. “That brings me to another matter,” he said as he opened his eyes again.

               “Huh?” Noctis sat up straight, eyebrows disappearing behind his bangs. “Oh, no. No, no, no. I am not sharing my bed with either of you.”

               “I’m siding with Noct on this one. We’re trying to lessen the tension, right?” Gladio shrugged, guilt and apology warring on his face.

               “I’m agreeing with them, too,” Prompto added. “I totally get why we have the rule, and that'll make it pointless, but there’s no reason we need to create more problems, right?”

               A twitch leaped through Ignis’ jaw as he clenched his teeth. “No one had a problem with that before,” he grumbled. “Fine! Let’s turn in for the night, then. Perhaps things will look brighter after a proper sleep.”