#(tentative on that last one since he is technically canon -- i just am fleshing him out more)

[primamchorus]

Impatience

Having arrived at the Citadel, Noctis and Ignis come to learn that things are not to go quite as they imagined it would. With the peace treaty on the horizon, it seems there is plenty there to throw wrenches into everyone's plans.

Word count: 2,119

FFXV: Reimagined Table of Contents

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It was a matter of minutes before Ignis was parking the car in the underground car lot and both he and Noctis were making their way toward the towering image of the Citadel. It was always such an awe-inspiring visage, especially when gazing toward the top of the building. One could never miss the font of magic that connected to the protective dome that encapsulated Insomnia. It was here where the dome, known as the Wall, was anchored.

Atop the stairs into the Citadel was a rather burly man. At a glance, he could have been mistaken for Cor…which Noctis had been guilty of having done in his youth.

The man was adorned in a coat of black — the revered color of Lucis, and so worn by royalty and those that worked for the royal Crown more times than not. His brow was set in a rather heavily set furrow, a stern frown upon his lips. Yeah, it was easy to have mistaken this man for Cor were it not for how much broader the man's shoulders and chest were these days.

“We’ve been waiting for you, Your Highness,” the man said, offering the bare minimum of a bow to Noctis.

“Haven’t seen you in ages, Drautos,” Noctis said, offering the bare minimum of a wave in turn. He had seen Drautos around, but sometimes even a week could feel like it dragged on for months if Noctis had any pressing matters to take care of. It was rare, but there was quite a bit of paperwork piling up along with actually having a job and doing schoolwork in the past.

Shrugging off Noctis’ flippant greeting, Drautos looked at Ignis with a stiff nod. There was an exchange of keys as Ignis relinquished Noctis' car into Drautos' care. Looking down at the keys momentarily, he then turned his attention to the young Prince. “After your business is finished, will you be returning home, Prince Noctis?”

“That’s the plan,” Noctis replied. He lazily brought his hands over and rested them in his pockets.

“Understood. Then I’ll have someone drop you off.”

“Thanks.” Noctis frowned with thought. Looking back up at Drautos, Noctis asked him: "Hey, while we're here… How are Primam and Tandem?"

The corner of Drautos' mouth twitched as he glanced back down at the keys in his possession. "The…former Arms-in-training are doing well enough. They've adjusted to their new station at the very least."

His words were stiff. The words used were enough to make Noctis bite back a grimace.

"For a mercy, they've been good about following instructions. That's more than I can say for some of the other Glaive I have under my command." Drautos finally pocketed the keys and then shifted his attention over. “Ignis.”

“Yes, sir?” Ignis straightened his posture reflexively.

“Make sure you’re available at all times. I can’t say for sure when King Regis will be able to see you given his schedule having been rearranged.”

Much as Ignis tried to hide it, he could not help but furrow his brow with surprise at the update. It was not often that he was taken unaware — much less left in the dark to changes in plans… Especially ones of this nature. Pursing his lips, he went on to say: “I had no idea.”

“Seriously? Whatever happened to meeting us now?” The impatience made itself more than evident in Noctis’ tone. Drautos, however, elected to ignore it whilst keeping his eyes on Ignis.

“His meeting probably dragged on longer than anticipated.” Drautos informed them. This elicited a somewhat exasperated ‘ugh…’ from Noctis.

“I hope His Majesty is able to see you before your departure tomorrow.” There seemed to have been a finality to the discussion after Drautos spoke and silence lingered between everyone. Of course, this pleased Noctis little as he folded his arms over his chest, kicking at the ground with some agitation.

“Captain.” Ignis broke the silence.

“Yes?”

“Is the date of the signing still undecided?” At Ignis’ question, Drautos seemed to glance uncomfortably between both he and Noctis.

“Unfortunately, yes.”

A troubled sigh escaped Ignis. “Unfortunate, indeed."

“I understand your anxieties — both of you,” Drautos looked at Noctis to acknowledge him as well in that moment. “But Regis has said he’d like to proceed with caution.”

“Of course.” Noctis could tell from Ignis’ expression after he spoke his affirmation that there was more at hand to have been concerned about. However, the Prince kept his mouth shut, electing to shove his hands into his pockets with further annoyance.

“I’ll let you know as soon as I hear anything,” Drautos said, placing his free hand on Ignis’ shoulder briefly and looking him in the eye.

“Much obliged.” Ignis concluded the discussion, pulling away from the Captain and heading into the Citadel with Noctis close behind.

Noctis’ expression only grew sour once they were inside the building. There were a lot of concerns and questions that raced through his mind about everything. More than anything, he was just frustrated that it was his last day in Insomnia before he was to get on the road with three of his trusted allies to make way to Altissia. Annoyance rose thinking that his own father had been trapped in meetings and discussions that prevented the two from having the chance to at least see each other off properly.

Thoughts were about to form out of Noctis’ mouth to word vomit at Ignis until he caught the familiar voice of someone — Iris of House Amicitia.

“Any chance I could see him?” Noctis heard Iris say. She was close, but nowhere to be seen for now.

“Not at present… Your father is still in a meeting.” Another familiar voice.

Turning the corner, Noctis and Ignis were able to see who Iris was conversing with. Silex Scientia — the current head of House Scientia following the unfortunate events that took Ignis’ parents when he was a child. It was always a nagging thought at the far back of Noctis’ mind whenever he saw Silex, the man that acted as not only Ignis’ uncle, but as a father figure since the attack at Cape Caem.

“Prince Noctis. You look well,” Silex said in greeting once he caught sight of both Noctis and Ignis. His words were the cause for Iris to turn on her heel suddenly. A large smile spread across her face as she looked at Noctis.

“Noct!” Iris brought her hands behind her back, lacing her fingers together.

“Hey Iris,” Noctis greeted before looking at Silex. Given what he had overheard from the two, a question bubbled forth: “Mr. Scientia, is my dad around?”

Silex’s chest and shoulders heaved with a silent, weary sigh before he glanced at Iris and then back at the Prince. “As I was just telling Iris, the King and Clarus’ meeting has yet to adjourn. You both have my sincerest apologies.”

“No…No worries…” Noctis said, already beating himself up mentally for failing to hide the disappointment in his voice. Also for allowing that question to slip past his lips when he already knew the answer prior to asking it. Maybe he was hoping for a different answer from a different person.

“I’m…sorry for the delay,” Silex apologized, drawing his hands together.

“It’s not your fault, Uncle,” Ignis said, attempting to assuage any discomfort or feelings of guilt at this time. “I’m sure that whatever is going on right now is far out of anyone’s hands. Unfortunate as it may be.”

“Yeah…” Noctis started, barely adding to what Ignis said. “We’ve got other things to do anyway.”

“Like getting ready for your trip?” Iris inquired, looking up at Noctis as she neared him.

“Yep.”

“Thought so. Bummer I don’t get to go with you and see the wedding...” While Iris’ words betrayed the remorse she attempted to feign, she did let out a sigh with a sense of disappointment that felt unrelated. Noctis opted not to press her on the matter. He figured the two of them were in the same boat: unable to meet with their parents.

Clearing his throat, Noctis shrugged and said, “I’m sure you’d just get bored along the way anyway. From what I've gone over with Dad and Ignis, it's probably gonna take quite some time to get there.”

“Well~” Iris started in a singsong tone. “Do you mind if I tag along with you? Just for today?”

“Around here?” Noctis was genuinely confused this time.

“No! Back to your place, silly!” Iris clarified with a small laugh.

Noctis exchanged looks with Ignis. Ignis seemed to have the expression that told Noctis that he was going to have to deal with answering her on his own. Suppressing his own sigh, the Prince rubbed at the back of his neck before finally saying, “Maybe…not a good idea.”

“What? Why not?” Iris asked. “It’s your last night in town; you're going to have a party, aren’t you?”

“Not…that kind of party…” Noctis said while Ignis shook his head and laughed wryly at the perceived assumption of what was happening later.

“It’s a moving-out party. Nothing but cleaning,” Ignis decided to dehaze Iris’ idea of what was going on later that evening.

“Cleaning!?” Iris asked, her voice rising a lot higher than she originally anticipated as evidenced by the fact that she brought her hands up to cover her mouth after her outburst.

“Yep. There’ll be bugs everywhere.” Noctis was honestly not sure whether or not he was lying in full. There probably were a few roaches hiding out at his apartment. Whether or not there were, however, there were definitely a couple gnats that had made themselves comfortable around the sink. Nothing extreme, thankfully, but nothing to really dismiss, either.

Iris, upon hearing some elaboration on that, scrunched up her face in a mix of disgust and disappointment to the news.

“So you’re probably better off staying away,” Noctis concluded of that aspect of their discussion before moving on. “What’re you doing here anyway?”

Iris’ expression softened before she pointed to a neat black paper bag leaning against a wall. “I brought a change of clothes for my dad. He’s been so busy lately; he just sleeps at the Citadel!”

“Not even Master Clarus has been spared from the treaty preparations, I see,” Ignis commented, adjusting his glasses. His amusement disappeared now that the topic shifted. Noctis glanced at the floor, his mouth forming into a thin line as he remembered all the pressure father must have been enduring at this time.

It certainly could not have been easy.

Turning back to Silex with this new consideration, Noctis asked in a concerned tone, “How’s my dad doing?”

“Exhaustion aside, he seems to be doing just fine,” Silex reassured Noctis.

“Can he still walk?”

“But of course.” Silex’s brow raised as he answered. He seemed surprised that Noctis would have thought otherwise of Regis. However, the relief in Noctis was palpable by all that were there as he let out a sigh he had no idea he was even holding.

“Great. I’m glad to hear it,” Noctis said.

Giving Noctis a nod to acknowledge his words, Silex moved on and looked at his nephew. “Ignis, I will contact you once His Majesty has a moment.”

An indignant scowl befell Noctis’ face, though he stayed silent. It was not as if he always checked his phone, much less answered it. Sometimes he just slept through it ringing or notifying him of anything. Still, it stung a little knowing that even he, Regis’ own son, would be less of a consideration versus the future Hand of the King. Even if he hated admitting it was for the best to himself.

“Much appreciated. For now, we’ll be on our way to the Prince’s quarters.” Ignis offered a courteous bow to his uncle before he and Noctis turned to start walking toward aforementioned quarters.

"Noct…" Iris spoke up before the two of them got too far, making both of them look at her inquisitively.

"Congratulations on your wedding," Iris said with a smile on her face that failed to reach her eyes. A twinge of sadness had been evident in her tone.

There was a moment's silence that lingered between Noctis and Iris before the Prince gave a somewhat shy smile. Turning his head away, he replied: "It's a little early for that. But… Thanks, Iris. I’ll see you later.”

Iris watched as the two turned to continue on their way. Soon, her expression fell, and matched that twinge of sadness that was heard in her tone. Not that Noctis nor Ignis witnessed it for themselves as they strode down the halls, passing window after window, and door after door.

[mlmdarkfiction]

Fandom: Fire Emblem Three Houses

Ship: Hubert Von Vestra/OC

Fic Description: Hubert cares about Luis. Cares about his feelings, his consent, and his pleasure. The last thing he would want is to hurt the other man. Especially when it comes to something like this, something that would result in him giving both his control and trust to Hubert.

Author Comment: I started writing this fic in February and just got around to finishing it. I'm trying to remind myself it's okay to sometimes be self indulgent and just write things involving oc/canon or just writing things for myself. If anyone does like Luis though I plan to write a rather large multichapter fic sometime relatively soonish involving lots of Fire emblem ocs...so there's that! In the mean time enjoy some soft Hubert.

Possible Content Warnings: NSFW, Hypnosis, Hypnosis Kink, Magic Used In Sex, There’s no actual sex but erect dicks are present and mentioned

Read Below:

“Are you sure you’re alright with this?” 

Hubert’s voice is soft as he looks up from his position on the bed to his husband. Only like this, with him sitting, is he actually shorter than the other man. The moment his eyes meet Luis’ red though, he knows that the other wants to go through with this. 

Despite what everyone else, even some of their so-called ‘friends’ believe, Hubert cares about Luis. Cares about his feelings, his consent, and his pleasure. The last thing he would want is to hurt the other man. Especially when it comes to something like this, something that would result in him giving both his control and trust to Hubert. 

He trusts himself, of course, but...he wants to make sure Luis trusts him too. 

“I am.” 

Luis smiles down at Hubert. He likes it like this, when Hubert is seated on their bed, and he is still standing. It makes him feel bigger for once, it’s a nice change of pace to feel like the powerful one. 

He cups Hubert’s cheeks. His own hands are cold, but it doesn’t stop Hubert from leaning into the touch.

Luis’ answer, it’s what Hubert had known the other would say, but still...there is a validation in the fact that Luis trusts him that feels wonderful, the soft affection feels wonderful. 

Luis is smaller than Hubert. 

He always has been, and although he’s grown quite a bit since their time in the Officers Academy, it’s doubtful he’ll ever be as tall as Hubert himself. 

The other man's upbringing, even though he was, technically, a noble himself, left him scarred both emotionally and physically. And because of it, his growth had been stunted, leaving Luis much smaller than their peers.

That’s why Hubert is gentle as he pulls the other man into his lap. 

He can’t suppress the smile slowly creeping onto his face when he feels just how hard Luis is already. Hubert has barely touched him, and in fact hasn’t touched his dick at all, and yet the other is already fully erect. 

It was usually like this though.

The mage wonders if Luis’ erection is the cause of actual excitement for what’s to come, or if he, like always, is just so eager to please Hubert that his body automatically follows suit. 

“We need a word,” 

“A word?” Luis interrupts before Hubert can finish explaining. 

He shifts Luis silently, the man's thighs now on both sides of his lap, straddling him. His hand brings one of Luis’ into his own where he pulls it to his lips kissing Luis’ tan, scarred knuckles. 

“Yes, a word,” He says after the act of adoration, watching the way Luis giggles softly at it. It’s his way of reacting to soft intimacy, something Hubert will never understand and yet always appreciate all the same.

Even after explaining to Hubert that he doesn’t just want, but needs the man’s adoration and praise, Luis still seems...surprised and elitated every time Hubert actually gives him it. 

As if to this day, after four years of being married, Luis is still surprised to find that Hubert loves him. 

“We need a trigger word,” He continues, explaining, “Something we won’t say by accident, that way you’ll be safe getting in and out of the space.” 

Hubert is taking this as seriously as he does everything, even with Luis flush in the face and seated on his lap.

“Right...a word…” The sentence is more of a soft hum than anything else, only audible because of the closeness of their bodies. 

“What about sweetheart?”

“Sweetheart?”  Hubert repeats, trying the word for himself. It does fit. 

It’s not a term either man uses for one another. Their terms of endearment, although drastically different, generally don’t involve the phrase. 

Hubert is, in a way, a far more formal lover. His nicknames tend to be traditional; Love, Dear, or simply Husband.

Luis’ are like the man himself, far more on the emotional side, nicknames like ; Darling, My Love, Dearest, and a wide array of cheesy variations of Hubert’s name. 

“Sweetheart could work.” Hubert decides looking down at the smaller man still upon his lap. “I just thought it was cute, you know?” Luis isn’t looking at Hubert now, his eyes cast down bashfully as he takes one of the mages hands into his own, linking their fingers together. 

It’s so cute Hubert is momentarily stunned unable to react. He is hit with just how much he loves the other man. 

There is a slight pause before his gloved freehand grabs Luis’ chin, tilting it up so that he’s facing him. The silence makes Luis’ nervous, so Hubert makes it quick, only a moment of staring into the red orbs he loves so much before their lips meet.

Luis’ lips are soft. They’ve always been soft, despite the numerous scars and calluses that cover the man's body everywhere else. And even as soft as they are, Luis has never had any issue with kissing Hubert’s own chapped lips. 

It seems, in fact, that Luis quite enjoys kissing Hubert,if the soft moan he gives is any indication. Though...the moan may entirely be the cause of Hubert moving his thigh to rub against the straining bulge in Luis pants. When they part Hubert is smirking. 

“Let’s begin then, focus on me.”

And ever the obedient husband, Luis does so. 

The magic itself is stupidly simple. Hubert had been able to master it in less than a day. Hubert keeps Luis’ eyes on his, even as the soft glow of the dark magic begins to illuminate them both, and then…

“Sweetheart.”

If Hubert hadn’t practiced beforehand, if he hadn’t first tried the spell on someone else, he would have been worried about the way the light seems to leave Luis’ eyes. 

A tentative hand finds its way to his husband's thigh, where it then begins to rub gentle circles, trailing close to, but never actually touching his clothed erection. “How are you feeling?” 

Luis will answer honestly, Hubert’s research on the spell has found. 

“Weird.” His voice is utterly emotionless, and soft. 

“Good weird?” The hand remains gentle, not wanting to spook the man under hypnosis. 

“Yeah…”

“Good.” 

He is prepared to stop as soon as Luis gives the word, as soon as anything seems off or uncomfortable. This is far less about his own pleasure, and more for that of Luis. After all it had been him to ask, having found out about the spell, while researching for one of his books. 

“Then...Strip for me.”

“Ah?” It’s a soft curious noise that leaves the soft parted lips, and although his movement is sluggish and off, Hubert helps Luis off of his lap and to his feet. 

What occurs is far from the sexy strip tease Hubert had been expecting. In his hypnotized state, Luis is too sluggish to actually unbutton his shirt, and so it takes a moment before Hubert realizes he needs to intervene. 

He does so, gloved hands reaching to the silk material, buttons removed one by one to reveal Luis’ scared chest. 

As one hand removes the shirt entirely the other allows a finger to trail gently down one of the scars, resting just above Luis’ hip bone. 

Normally Luis is far too high strung and nervous to allow Hubert to stare at him like this. To really examine him, and his body. 

The first time Hubert had seen him nude, Luis had cried. Tears caused by anxiety and fear. 

He worried that the other would find him, the damaged state of his body disgusting. 

It’s better now, somewhat, but even after countless reassurances Luis is far from completely soothed, still far from allowing Hubert to gawk at his naked form. 

And seeing him now, truly for the first time and without restraint, Hubert realizes just how beautiful his husband is. He is beautiful not in spite of his scars, but because of them. 

Scars caused by abuse, by his own crests destructive power, they meant that Luis was a fighter. 

The muscles in the man's chest and stomach clench and flex under the gentle trailing of finger tips, and Hubert doesn’t miss the full body shudder that comes from Luis. 

It could be considered teasing, something Luis hates within the bedroom. 

He’s always needy, always wanting, always begging Hubert to just give him everything he has, but not now. 

Now he’s flushed and silent and shirtless, staring at Hubert through half lidded eyes. 

“You’re lovely.” Hubert reassures, although really there’s no need. He’s hoping that perhaps, the conscious layer of Luis left underneath the hypnosis may be able to hear it, may take to heart his words, and finally truly believe the depth of Hubert’s adoration. 

He can only hope.

“I love you.” 

It’s so much easier to express himself like this, when there’s no chance of embarrassing himself. 

“So much.” 

His hands are already getting rid of Luis pants and under clothes, and despite the very excited cock in his immediate vicinity Hubert’s attention instead goes to the other man's thighs. 

The flesh of his thighs is just as scared as the rest of Luis’ body, but it does little to stop Hubert from covering the skin in kisses of adoration. 

Hubert’s own actions cause him to blush, something he would be unable to do perhaps, if he knew Luis was fully aware, but here and now it’s okay to let himself go, to worship his husband in every way which he deserves.

Pale lips repeatedly pressing to the darken thighs. 

He only stops himself when he hears the fervent moan from the man above him. The other’s cock is leaking precum like a faucet, and from how tight Hubert’s own pants feel it’s clearly time for him to move on.

Hubert doesn’t waste time changing. There’s simply no point. He unzips his pants, and pulls his own cock free from it’s confines. It’s lithe, skinny but a total 7 inches in length, and very veiny, totally different from Luis’ own cock. Unlike his husband, Luis is smaller and smooth, barely 5 ½ inches, but incredibly thick, so much so Hubert almost needs to use both hands to stroke him. 

“On my lap.” 

The order obeyed, Luis carefully finding himself on Hubert’s lap, legs spread on either side, both cocks inches away from touching. 

Hubert considers, for a moment, bucking his hips upward to nudge his cock. He’s curious as to how Luis would respond to it, but he holds back the urge. 

He’s far more interested in seeing Luis’ reactions to their main act. And the other man had already gone through the trouble of preparing himself beforehand. 

Gloved hands go, groping at the other's soft bubble butt. There’s a slight slickness, the lube Luis had used before, it dampens Hubert’s gloves, but he doesn’t mind as he finally begins to remove them. 

Stained black fingers dance across the soft skin. He takes a deep breath before…

Hubert doesn’t order Luis to kiss him. 

He doesn’t need to. The moment their lips connect Luis is kissing back. 

It seems the spell has broken. 

Perhaps Luis was simply too strong, or Hubert lost his concentration, or a mix of both factors. 

Spell broken or no, the other man is eager.

He moans against Hubert’s lips, hips rocking gently forward, his cock lightly pressing against Hubert’s own. 

It’s a familiar sensation. 

A familiar neediness and urgency. 

When they part Hubert’s not at all surprised to see that bashful yet loving smile looking up at him. 

Luis arms wrap themselves around Hubert, he leans in head resting on the others shoulder. 

“Love me?”

Both a request and a command from the smaller man. 

Always “love me” always “can we make love” always romantic always soft. 

Everything Luis needs, and everything Hubert would never willingly admit to needing in return. 

“Of course.” 

Soft.  Dutiful. 

Hubert refuses to disappoint.