#some gladio whump too

[themanicmagician]

Scapegoat - FFXV Oneshot

[AO3] Summary:

“King Noctis?”

He barely holds back a sigh—had ten minutes alone been too much to ask?—and forces an amicable smile on his face.

He turns to greet the newcomer. And freezes.

A man he’s never met has the barrel of a gun trained on his chest.

Insomnia is slow to recover. The crown city had been ravaged during the clash between Niflheim and the Old Wall. After Insomnia fell, the empire held the city but did not maintain it, instead letting the infrastructure crumble, leaving it all to rot. Then came a decade of darkness, and the city became home to daemons and animals, as well as a handful of humans too concerned with living day to day to concern themselves with burst pipes and rubble in the streets.

Noctis had hesitated, at first. He’d done all that’d been asked of him. With the help of his brothers, he’d given Ardyn peace at last, and returned light to the world. Surely, no one would begrudge him the choice to tuck himself away in some quiet part of the world and let everything continue on without him.

But then they’d returned to Hammerhead, the morning sun at their backs.

The gathered scraps of the crownsguard had wept—even Cor’s eyes were suspiciously damp. They’d knelt before him, pressed their lips to his knuckles and called him Majesty. At once, there were volunteers to patrol the city, people scrambling to summon their families from wherever they were holed up, talk of the equipment that’d be required for the rebuild. No one could even fathom that Noctis would want anything otherwise. With the empire in shambles, they needed a stability to their world that only he could provide. It would be selfish and cruel of him to leave them now.

And so he stayed.

News of the king’s return spread throughout Lucis. In the weeks that followed, people entered the city in a steady stream. Some were eager to reclaim their lost homestead; others just sought security. Noctis threw himself wholeheartedly into the revitalization efforts among his people, becoming just another pair of hands sifting through the rubble. Tensions ran high initially, Lucians unhappy with the Niflheim refugees working alongside them. Noctis nipped that enmity in the bud, shaming them into better behavior. He meant what he’d promised Prompto, all those years ago in the keep; he craved above all a unity between the nations, so nothing like the war between Lucis and Niflheim ever happens again.

Once they’d cleared the streets enough that cars could make it through to the Citadel and back, his coronation was held. The ceremony was less fanciful than those past for want of resources, but they made due with what they had. His father should have been the one to place the crown onto his head, but the duty instead fell to Cor, the last remnant of King Regis’ reign. On the steps of the Citadel, the newly-crowned King Noctis pledged himself to his people, to rule and protect them as best he was able.

The coronation ceremony had been televised. Now with tangible proof of his ascension, emissaries were quick to reach out to establish alliances. Ravus surprised him by being the first to step forward and pledge Tenebrae’s loyalty and assistance with Insomnia’s recovery efforts.

Reluctantly, Noctis began to sequester himself from the physical, tangible aspects of the rebuild effort. He turned his focus inward, to learn what it meant to be king. The Citadel, miraculously, had been left largely untouched all this time. Sure, windows were smashed out here and there, but its resources had been left mostly intact. Noctis spent countless hours holed up in the library, pouring over books on past treaties and tactics. He wasn’t about to risk his ignorance ruining the peace everyone had sacrificed so much for.

Today they’re holding a reception in one of the Citadel’s ballrooms for visiting dignitaries from Lestallum. The thought of that still throws him. Ten years ago, Lestallum had been a lively but small city, nothing next to Insomnia. His friends had caught him up to speed on how the city had evolved into much more of a city-state. Lestallum’s reactor made it uniquely suited as a hub for safety in a world of darkness, and it’s now six times the size it’d been when he’d last visited it. With Lestallum’s proximity to Insomnia, it’s imperative they become firm partners in trade.

Insomnia will be as grand as it once was, but to get there, the capital city needs all the aid it can get. So Noctis puts on his most pleasant smile and mingles with the people of influence from Lestallum.

This gala is a mockery of what such parties used to look like. But they simply don’t have the supplies and reserves yet for anything better. Instead of caviar, there’s fish caught fresh from the reservoir. Instead of fizzy champagne, they’re serving wine that they’d raided from some deep cellar in the Citadel. Staff had dusted the bottles for hours to make them look “vintage” instead of ancient.

All the diplomats Noctis speaks with are gracious enough not to comment on Insomnia’s sluggish pace of improvement, instead taking pains to praise the empire’s defeat and Noctis’ return.

Noctis has to be very careful with his words. Since his return, people have seen King Noctis Lucis Caelum the Lightbringer first, and Noct second. Attendants trail in his footsteps, hoping to glean some blessed wisdom, imitating his every mannerism. At the tail end of a meeting he’d lamented offhandedly to Ignis that he missed skittles. Days later, a veritable mountain of the sugary candy was delivered to the Citadel. He’d been touched, but also kind of embarrassed. He kept a few packets despite Ignis’ grumblings, and gave the rest to the children.

Gods, there are so many of them. Not babes, not yet; it’s been five months since dawn returned. But teenagers and toddlers are aplenty, war orphans. They first wandered the broken streets as the adults worked, unsure what to do or where to go. Noctis seized an old college dormitory to house them in, and there were many volunteers to teach and care for them. Noctis makes a point to visit them once a week with “Uncle Prompto”.

Noctis withdraws from a droning conversation with a trade magnate. The man doesn’t let him leave until he presses a kiss to Noctis’ knuckles with his rubbery lips. Noctis fights the urge to wipe his hand on his sleeve. He’s still not used to being treated with such reverence. He’s unworthy of it, and it makes him uncomfortable.

Needing some air, Noctis ducks out of the ballroom and into the hall. He should probably notify Gladio, at least, that he’s stepping out. But Gladio would insist on tagging along, and he needs solitude even from his Shield right now. He passes through an antechamber that leads out to a balcony.

He tests the railing’s strength, and, once assured it won’t collapse at the slightest touch, he leans his weight against it, staring out at the view. The crispness of the wind is refreshing. He closes his eyes, just taking a moment to revel in the breeze that stirs his hair.

“King Noctis?”

He barely holds back a sigh—had ten minutes alone been too much to ask?—and forces an amicable smile on his face.

He turns to greet the newcomer. And freezes.

A man he’s never met has the barrel of a gun trained on his chest.

Noctis’ hand twitches, but he doesn’t call forth his Engine Blade from the armiger. He wouldn’t be fast enough.

“Put the gun down,” Noctis commands, more confident than he feels. He risks a glance over the man’s shoulder. There’s no one coming. Inexplicably, no one noticed his absence yet, or they have, and aren’t sure where he’s run off to. “You don’t have to do this.”

A laugh tears out of the man. It’s a broken, hollow thing. He holds the gun in both hands, and reaffirms his grip.

“On the contrary. I’ve been dreaming of this moment for six years.”

Noctis has to keep him talking as long as he can. He takes the slightest step forward, so small as to not draw the man’s attention. Disarming methods had been drilled into his head when he was a child as a precaution. If he can just get close enough…

“In what way have I wronged you?” Noctis asks.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Your Majesty.” He spits the title like a curse. “You left us in the darkness for ten years.”

“I needed time to prepare—”

“Sarah didn’t have time!” He yells over Noctis. “Gods only know where you were, but for us common folk, every hour of every day was a struggle to survive. All the crops died in the first months, do you understand that? My Sarah…” He sobs. “I had no money. Nothing to barter. The rations weren’t near enough. She was whittled down to nothing when her heart gave out. Her skin hung off her bones like paper. And you want us to worship you now? For sauntering in like the last ten years never happened? It’s your fault she’s dead, that thousands are dead from the Long Night.”

“I don’t want to be worshiped, or anything of that sort.” Noctis is so, so close now. Just two more steps. His heart beats frantically in his ears. “Believe me when I say I never intended to be away for so long.”

“I’m not here to listen to your excuses.” His finger tightens on the trigger. “I’m here for Sarah.”

“Wait, please—”

Noctis lunges for the gun, but he’s too slow.

There’s a loud bang as the gun goes off, then all Noctis hears is a ringing whine. Red blooms from the center of his chest. His killer stares at him, face pale, seemingly shocked that he’s actually done it. Then he spins on his heel and flees, leaving Noctis to die alone.

He has minutes, at most. He thinks he should probably feel more frantic about the concept of dying, but instead a calm resignation settles on his shoulders. He’d made his peace with his death once before, when he’d been so sure fulfilling his destiny would cost his life. His knee aches, along with his chest, so he slides down onto the floor. He presses his side against the railing of the balcony, so he can look out at Insomnia below. It’s late, and dark, so he can’t see too much detail, just the bright lights of the buildings. It reminds him of the city’s halcyon days, and he can almost pretend he’s twenty again, looking out on the cityscape at night, everyone he loves still alive.

Maybe this is the divine hand of the Astrals; save for Shiva, they hadn’t been pleased when he’d cheated the poetic death they’d laid out for him. So they’d stuck him with the next end they could find, five months later. At least death by assassination isn’t too terribly ignoble.They could’ve been proper assholes about it and given him a heart attack on the toilet, or something.

No, this isn’t bad at all. He was able to bring the dawn back, and he knows his friends will get on fine without him. They’ve all been doing so well, had done so well without him all these long years. They don’t need him. Perhaps they never did.

Noctis is so tired. He closes his eyes and drifts.

~*~

Prompto is doing his absolute damndest to appear like he belongs here. Noctis would never think of excluding him, but still, he lacks the lessons on etiquette that had been drilled into Gladio and Ignis since they were kids, and he’d never attended parties like this when Noct was prince. He feels supremely out of place amidst this glittering crowd, even with his freshly pressed and tailored uniform. The last thing he wants to do is stick his foot in his mouth and cause some sort of scandal with the visiting dignitaries, so he keeps to himself on the fringe of the activity, gripping the glass of wine in his hands like a lifeline.

He watches Noctis make a slow circuit of the room, taking the time to speak with everyone. In high school he’d bemoaned his royal duties, had skipped state dinners against his father’s will to play video games with Prompto in his pajamas. It’s difficult to reconcile that bratty prince with the regal king Noctis has grown into. Ten years in the crystal have tempered his spirit, brough to the surface the noble qualities that Noctis used to shield behind an indifferent, sullen attitude. Prompto’s stupidly proud of him.

Noctis’ gaze finds him across the room. Prompto waves unthinkingly, then yelps as he accidentally sloshes wine onto his sleeve. The smirk the king flashes him is all Noct.

Prompto scuttles over to the buffet. He wets a napkin and tries to scrub the wine out of the cuff before it can set.

“That will definitely stain.” Ignis says, appearing over his shoulder and confirming his fears.

While Prompto feels out of place, Ignis, on the contrary, looks right at home. This is the kind of environment he was raised to work in. Running around all of Lucis hunting demons and gathering the blessings of the Astrals had been an unprecedented departure from his intended duties.

Prompto gives up on saving his sleeve, and rolls it up half an inch instead to hide the damp discoloration. It exposes the black band of his bracelet beneath, but there’s no prickle of anxiety. The guys know what he is, where he came from, and they’d accepted him easily. He hides the barcode now to avoid having to explain himself to strangers, but if it comes off, he’ll deal with it.

“How are things going out there?” Prompto gestures to the crowd before them.

“I’m cautiously optimistic,” Ignis says, which is Ignis-speak for fucking ecstatic. “Insomnia doesn’t have too much yet in the way of resources to offer for trade, but considering Noct is the one who ended the Long Night, they are all too happy to supply any aid they can in thanks.” His smile is wry. “They want to get in the good graces of the Gods’ champion, as it were. In case he has a few more miracles up his sleeve.”

Noctis had sat them all down after they’d killed Ardyn. He still retains the Ring of the Lucii and the Crystal, but the covenants with the Gods have expired. They can use magic as they wish, but otherwise they are on their own now. If people are expecting Noctis to display the Gods like a party trick, they’ll be waiting a long while.

They both stiffen at the sound of a sharp bang. A gunshot?

The partygoers cry out in panic. Cor jumps to take charge, ordering crownsguard to the doors.

“Have you seen Noct?” Gladio suddenly appears in front of them, looking frazzled.

Prompto glances back to where he’d last seen his friend, but he isn’t there. He looks around the room, searching for the telltale glint of a crown, for a flash of black and gold. They just heard a gun go off, and he can’t find Noct.

Without another word exchanged, the trio tear off towards the source of the gunshot. They run through a hallway, and take a turn into an antechamber that leads out to a balcony.

As Gladio shoves open the door to the antechamber, a man shouts, and tries to bring the butt of his gun down on Gladio’s head. Gladio is faster and stronger. He delivers one swift punch to the man’s face, hard enough to crack his jaw. Dazed, the man lets the gun slip free from his hand. Gladio drives him to the floor, and keeps him pinned with his knee.

“I’ve got him. Check on Noct!”

A set of glass doors divide the room from its balcony. Prompto lets out a low moan of fear, hand coming to his mouth in horror. Noctis is slumped against the railing, his raiment soaked through with blood.

Ignis beats him there by seconds, yanking open the glass door and sliding to his knees before his king.

Noctis’ eyes are closed, his face impossibly pale.

“Is he—?”

Ignis presses a pair of shaking fingers to Noctis’ neck.

“Still alive. He doesn’t have long—we need a phoenix down.  Now.”

“On it.” Prompto says, and bolts from the room.

He runs as fast as he can, crashing around corners, bowling people over. Noctis is barely clinging to life. After—After he dies, because he will die, because none of them had been paying enough attention, they’ll have ten minutes at the absolute maximum to get the phoenix feather into Noctis. Any longer, and they’ll be too late.

And of course, of fucking course they none of them have any phoenix downs on hand. They hadn’t wanted to bother Noctis with restocking the armiger, not when he was so busy with everything else. They have a handful of phoenix downs stored in the hospital wing of the Citadel, in case of a dire emergency. Not one of them had thought to slip one into the armiger tonight, because who would dare attack the king in his own home, surrounded by his closest confidants?

Even though that’s exactly how King Regis had died. Gods, even after everything they’ve been through, they’re still a bunch of idiots.

Prompto skids to a stop in front of an elevator bank, and jams the button to call an elevator repeatedly. He itches to just take the stairs, but as slow as the elevator seems, it’ll be faster.

The elevator doors open with a soft chime, and Prompto is inside and pressing the close door button before it finishes. He takes the half a minute of the elevator’s descent to catch his breath, and plan out the path he’ll take from the elevator that’ll be the quickest to his destination.

When the doors open again he’s off like a shot, brushing past bemused glaives on patrol. He stumbles into the infirmary. The on-duty doctor drifts towards him, alarmed, looking him over for injuries.

“Phoenix down.” Prompto pants.

“But we were instructed to—”

“The king is dying!” Prompto snaps. “Give it to me.”

The doctor scurries away to find the curative. Prompto eyes the clock on the wall, watches what could be Noctis’ last seconds tick away. His fingers drum on his pants. No time. No time.

The doctor returns, grasping a tuft of a golden feather in his hand. Prompto snatches it from him without a word, and sprints back to the elevator bank. Thankfully, the elevator he’d called down is still here.

As the elevator climbs higher, Prompto cradles the phoenix down close to his chest. The feather glows bright with magic, waiting to be used.

He bursts into the antechamber. Noctis’ assassin is bound and unconscious in one corner of the room, under the watch of a pair of crownsguard. Gladio and Ignis have brought Noctis off the balcony and into the room. Ignis is pressing his handkerchief to Noctis’ chest, but Prompto can tell it’s a fool’s errand. Noctis isn’t breathing. How long has it been since he stopped?

Prompto drops to his knees before them and slams the phoenix down over Noctis’ heart.

There’s a long moment where nothing happens. Magic ignites in Noctis’ chest, but he remains still and pale. Gladio’s eyes are wet, and Ignis looks positively shattered. All Prompto can think is if only he’d been a little faster, maybe they could’ve saved him.

And then Noctis is arching up, gasping for air, hands clutching at his chest. Prompto watches Noctis draw in one ragged breath after another, and it’s the most beautiful goddamn thing he’s ever seen.

“Oh Gods. Thank the Gods.” Prompto gasps. He clasps at Noctis’ shoulder, reveling in the proof that Noctis is still alive.

“Noct. Noctis,” Ignis repeats his name like a prayer, running his trembling hands through Noctis’ hair. His hands are tacky with blood, making Noctis look more a mess, but Ignis can’t help himself.

Gladio is across from Prompto, and has one hand wrapped around Noctis’ wrist, thumb over the pulse point. He draws in a shuddering breath, crying silently.

“What—What happened?” Noctis rasps. His gaze flickers rapidly between the three of them as he struggles to make sense of the gap of time.

“You’re alright now,” Prompto promises, voice thick with tears. He takes Noctis’ hand in his own, pressing it to his cheek. Gods, his hand is freezing cold. They came so close to losing him. “We’ve got you.”

~*~

Noctis had been dead for eight minutes, due to negligence of his role. In the ten years Noctis has been gone, Gladio has forgotten what it meant to be a Shield. He’d become a Sword, focused only on honing himself, becoming stronger, obliterating any daemons that ventured too close to the king’s people. Swords are useful, but the king has plenty of swords already. He needs a proper shield. Someone to defend him, someone who can provide a haven of security. Someone who can sense when he needs a moment to himself, and guide him somewhere safe where he can compose himself without the threat of danger.

Gladio failed him last night.

Clarus is no longer here—he died with his king, before his king, as Gladio should have—so it falls upon him to discipline himself.

As soon as he can, he makes an excuse to separate from the group. He leaves the Citadel and returns to the Amicita estate. He hasn’t been back here since that fateful day over a decade ago, when he’d piled into the Regalia alongside his friends. Back then, his only concern had been if he’d brought enough books along for what was supposed to have been a week-long trip.

His home doesn’t match up to the memories in his mind. The Niffs had known who they were; MTs had stormed the estate in search of him and Iris, seeking to cull the line of faithful Shields. The elements have gotten in through the smashed windows, leaving the once-vibrant carpets muddied and faded, wooden furniture spoiled by rainstorms. Gladio picks his way around overturned furniture, and tries not to think about how the walls are mottled with bullet holes. Iris had survived Insomnia’s fall. That’s what matters.

Gladio enters his old room. Spartan, save for the full bookshelf alongside one wall. He didn’t have the time for many hobbies growing up, nor the inclination to indulge.

Beneath his moth-eaten mattress is a box. He pulls it out, and lifts off the lid to reveal what’s inside. A scourge, his father called it. A thick leather handle, with six barbed, knotted ropes attached. He’s never had cause to use it before.

Gladio peels off his shirt, and shivers in the slight chill of the air. He hefts the whip in one hand with solemn resolve.                                          

His king had been dead for eight minutes; so it will be eight lashes against his skin.

The first strike stings, like a daemon had caught him in the back by surprise.

His skin breaks open on the third. He feels blood roll down from the open cut. He pictures Noctis, left to die alone, and the next lash is harder still.

At six lashes he has to pause. Bowed over, hands curling in the carpet fibers, he gasps for breath. He deserves this. As soon as Noctis had been coherent, he’d knelt by his side and apologized. The king had forgiven him, absolved him of all blame, but Gladio still feels unrest in his soul. Noctis couldn’t seem to grasp the depths of Gladio’s shame.

After the eighth lash, he drops the scourge. He should clean his blood off the bits of spiked metal; there’s a chance he’ll need it again. But for the moment, he just sits, feeling the welts on his back, sinking into the pain of it.

Then, the floorboards creak. Too lightly for a man.

Iris enters his room.

They haven’t spent enough time together, but now that there are no daemons left to kill, she’s strayed closer to his side than she has the past several years. The Long Night has shaped her into a formidable warrior. Still small, but built of compact muscle and with a steely resolve that rivals Cor’s. But despite everything she’s endured, she still maintains her sweet smile. Iris the Daemonslayer is still the same Iris who snuck cats inside their house to keep them out of the rain.

There’s no panic in her eyes at the sight of his bloodied back—she, too, is Clarus’ child.

“I thought I’d find you here.” Is all she says.

He’s infinitely grateful that it’s Iris, and her alone. Prompto, Ignis, and especially Noctis would be appalled. Horrified. This is not something that anyone else but them, the last two in the line of House Amicita, will understand.

Iris cradles a hi-potion in her hand. He turns away.

“I don’t need that.” He’ll bandage and clean the wounds. But he wants the pain to linger, wants the scars to remind him.

“Don’t be an idiot, Gladiolus.” She shoves the hi-potion at his face. “How are you going to defend King Noctis if you’re too sore and stiff to wield your sword?”

Still, Gladio hesitates.

“You can’t prioritize your need to feel guilty over his well-being.”

“I’m not.”

“So…?” She shakes the glass bottle, sloshing its contents around.

Begrudgingly, he accepts the hi-potion. He swallows it down in three large gulps. It’s bitter, but effective. In seconds he feels his pain dull, skin knitting back together. Streaks of drying blood on his back and the scourge now the only proof of what had transpired.

“Come on,” Iris bumps her shoulder against his. “Noct is waiting.”

~*~

Ignis is well aware that he’s hovering.

He can’t bring himself to stop.

If he pauses but a moment, then he’s thrust right back to the night of the gala, feeling the failing beats of his king’s pulse beneath his fingers. So he doesn’t stop. He irons Noctis’ clothes, and polishes the golden clasps that adorn his kingly raiments. He takes over Noctis’ meals, to the head chef’s chagrin, spoiling him with whatever favorites he can. The mundane tasks distract his hands and mind, and are soothing in their familiarity.

They’d come so close to losing him. Ignis has only felt such terror in his life twice before. When he’d been told the news of the Marilith attack and Noctis’ paralyzation, and when Ardyn had held a dagger to his unconscious leige’s throat. Noctis has had close brushes with death during their long journey, they all have, but there’s a difference between injuries scored in the heat of battle versus ones inflicted when Nocitis is caught unawares. Noctis has fought Gods and won, and a simple bullet claimed his life. So simple to be ludicrous, and so unfair. Noctis has more than earned a long and happy life.

Ignis still can’t comprehend it. That anyone would ever want to harm Noctis, their king, the bringer of the dawn. They should bless him for every harvest, for every child that can grow up in a world free of daemons and war.

He’s developed a new habit in the past handful of days. In between his self-assigned tasks, he checks the armiger’s stock. They secured a second phoenix down from the medical wing—just in case—and had added a small collection of potions and other curatives that Ignis intends to expand further still, as soon as Noctis feels well enough to spare the magic. Ignis refuses to be caught so off guard again.

Noctis can sense each time Ignis dips into the armiger to take a look. He glares over at Ignis when he feels him rummage through it for the third time in one hour.

“You can go, Specs.” Noctis gestures to the stack of reports on his desk. “You’re antsy. Take the rest of the night off. I’m just getting through the rest of these and heading to bed.”

“I can stay.” He casts about for an excuse. “In case you have concerns. I have some thoughts on the crop surveys—”

“Which I’ll be more than happy to hear about tomorrow. I’m fine. I’m not going to fall apart the second you leave the room.”

Annoyance bleeds through his tone. Ignis winces. He’s not the only one that’s been finding excuses to remain at Noctis’ side. Gladio shadows him from room to room, rarely excusing himself for his own needs. Prompto fills every meal with ceaseless chatter, and shepherds him to meetings alongside Gladio. Noctis has always hated his need for security, his lack of privacy as a public figure, but they need to keep reassuring themselves that he’s alright. Ignis knows he will never forget Noctis’ last hitching gasp before he stopped breathing.

“Ignis, please.” It’s the weariness in his voice that makes Ignis concede.

“Very well.” Ignis draws himself up, and collects the thin folders he’d used as an excuse to drop in. “Tomorrow, then. Have a pleasant evening, Majesty.”

Noctis inclines his head, and Ignis slowly, reluctantly, trudges from the king’s rooms. He nods at the two crownsguard posted outside the door.

He showers. It’s still such a novelty, having power to spare for hot water.

Ignis then settles on the couch in his room at the Citadel, and goes over Noctis’ schedule for tomorrow. His time is choked with meetings, but there’s nothing for it. As slow as Insomnia’s recovery may seem, it requires a lot of activity behind the scenes to keep everything in motion.

Once he’s exhausted preparations for tomorrow, Ignis attempts to distract himself, in vain. He’s too restless to focus on a book, too wired to sleep.

He’s already bid Noctis good night. But...it can’t hurt to check in on him, can it?

It’s nearly eleven now. Noctis usually heads to bed around midnight. He’s been having some issues sleeping, stress giving him nightmares. Perhaps a soothing herbal tea will help ease him into pleasant dreams.

He prepares a pot of chamomile tea and snags two tea cups from the kitchens before he heads to Noctis’ rooms. The guards posted sentry don’t look surprised at all to see him again tonight, and let him inside.

“Noct?” He calls, softly. He sets the tea and cups down on the coffee table.

He finds Noctis slumped over on his desk. Ignis nearly panics, until he sees the rhythmic rise and fall of Noctis’ chest, hears the low whistle of his snores. Ignis drags a hand over his face. He is being ridiculous. They’d had a scare, to be sure, but Noctis is  fine .

Ignis crosses over to his king, and gently shakes his shoulder.

“Noct, come on. You can’t sleep here.” Hunched over like this, he’ll aggravate his back if left to it.

Noctis mumbles something incomprehensible, and bats weakly at Ignis’ hand. There’s a wet spot of drool on the opened report beneath him.

“Come on, up you go.”

Noctis’ eyes crack open a sliver. More than half asleep, he lets Ignis steer him to his bedroom. Ignis would prefer if Noctis would change into something more comfortable for sleep, but he knows Noctis doesn’t have the energy for that right now. So Ignis helps him into bed, and after removing his shoes, Ignis drags the comforter over him, tucking it up to his chest.

Noctis curls on his side, and in moments his breathing deepens in sleep once more.

~*~

He just needs a few minutes alone. He’ll be fine if he can just get that.

Noctis is well aware that wanting a few minutes of solitude is what resulted in his brush with death not one week ago, but he’s not the first Lucian king too stubborn to learn from history.

He retreats to the same place he fled to as a child, mostly whenever he’d been upset with his father. The Citadel has several gardens and greenhouses, but the one tucked away on the 43rd floor has always been his favorite. Patches of Tenebraean sylleblossoms had been carefully coaxed into flowering amidst the willow and sakura trees. He used to gape at the koi as they swirled majestically around the multi-tiered pond, the gentle scent of blossoms embracing him.

The fish that used to entrance him have long since died, their remains choking the water’s current. The flowers have all shriveled, their stalks stringy and yellowed. The trees at least, though they stand hollow and dead, stand still, creating a familiar enough setting. Noctis sits in the dirt before the edge of the pond, and watches the stale water lap quietly against the bank.

His killer has a name; Luca Taylor.

The sentence for an attempted assassination is death. Noctis knows this. There’d been attempts made before, on his life and his father’s, albeit none as successful. Regis hadn’t hesitated to meter out the king’s justice upon those foolhardy men and women. He’d watched with hard eyes as Clarus took their lives.

The crownsguard locked Luca up in one of Insomnia’s still-functioning prisons. Just waiting for Noctis to give the order. Gladio will leap at the chance for vengeance—if Ignis doesn’t beat him there first. But Noctis has said nothing yet about Luca, despite all the probing questions about his fate tossed his way.

Because he knows Luca was right.

The Long Night, as they all call it, has left its marks. As much as everyone tries to downplay it—so grateful he returned at all in their lifetime, they made no mention of the decade he’d abandoned them for, save for Gladio’s quiet “Took you long enough, princess”—Noctis can see how it has worn on all of them. He sees it in the way Ignis rations out meals for the week to the last crust of bread, leaving nothing unused. The way Gladio’s head snaps up at every sudden, unexpected sound, hands twitching for a sword. The way Prompto, once so animated and bubbly in everything he did, has taken to sitting still, to conserve his strength for survival.

The way they all can’t sleep without a light on in the dark of night.

Noctis had nearly wept when he’d stepped out of Talcott’s truck to witness how years of slow starvation and constant war had left them so haggard and hollow-cheeked, shadows of the men they’d once been.

And it’s his fault. All they endured, all Luca suffered through. The deaths of Sarah and countless others.

He hadn’t been enough. He’d pressed his hand to the Crystal and begged for the power to end the daemons. He’d offered everything. If the Astrals had told him a blood price would be enough, he would’ve slit his wrists right there in Gralea.

But instead, the Crystal had taken him away from them to build his strength, so he’d stand a chance against Ardyn Lucis Caelum. While Eos had suffered, he’d been cucconed in the impenetrable protection of the Crystal. Not knowing hunger or paranoia or pain like any of them had.

He will never truly understand what it felt like, for any of them. He would’ve gladly lived those ten years in the darkness alongside them. He feels like he’s cheated his way to a happy ending. He doesn’t deserve it.

Gods, if anyone deserves it, it’s Luna, his father. They’ve done so much, given so much. They deserve to be here in the world they saved, not him. Not the lazy, weak little prince.

A pair of boots crunch over the dead plants.

“Noct?” Prompto’s voice sounds strained. “You in here, buddy?”

Noctis almost says nothing, selfishly wanting more time to himself, but his guilt at the worried edge to his best friend’s voice has him calling out.

“Here.”

Prompto rushes to him, scanning him over for any type of injury. When he finds none, he sits at Noctis’ side. He sends out a message to their group chat. Noctis’ phone buzzes in his breast pocket with the text alert. Prompto’s gaze flicks to it.

“You know, we’ve been looking for you the past hour or so. Calling you.”

Has it been that long? Noctis can’t tell. His sense of time has been skewed since he emerged from the Crystal; his imprisonment hadn’t felt ten years long.

Prompto digs out a stone from the sandy soil and tosses it. It hits the pond water with a heavy plop.

Prompto laughs, mirthless. “Gotta say that was pretty uncool of you, man. We’re still in panic mode, you know? Ignis was about ready to tear apart all of Insomnia with the glaives and everything.”

Guilt settles uneasily in his stomach, like a thick sludge. Noctis hugs his knees to his chest.

“Didn’t hear the phone. ‘m sorry.”

Prompto deflates some at his muttered, shitty apology.

“I get it. Just tell us next time, okay? Give your poor crownsguard some peace of mind.”

“Not just that.” Noctis sighs. “Prompto, I’m sorry for…for everything.”

“What are you talking about?” Prompto asks, with a bewildered tone that has to be fake.

“Stop that,” Noctis shifts to glare at him. “Don’t pretend like you don’t know—”

“Noctis? Prompto?” Ignis’ voice rings out. He sounds out of breath. Gladio trails in behind him.

“Over here!” Prompto waves them over. Gladio and Ignis come to sit beside them.

“Why don’t you ever answer your damn phone?” Gladio grinds out, but Prompto speaks over him.

“Noct already apologized for that. And also for everything? Apparently?”

There’s a glance exchanged between the three of them that he doesn’t understand. Of course he can’t read them anymore. It’s been too long.

“You have nothing to apologize for, Noct.” Ignis says, and it’s that infuriatingly gentle tone of his that breaks him.

“Enough, please. You don’t have to coddle me, and pretend you don’t really resent me. You should never have had to wait so long for me to get out of the Crystal. I know what I am, okay? I know I’m a fuck up. A mistake. I know it, you guys know it, Luca Taylor knows it—”

“Whatever that man said to you, I can assure you he’s incorrect.” Ignis says, with a deep severity.

“He isn’t.” A peal of hysterical laughter rips through him. “It’s nothing I didn’t already know. I was a pathetic prince, and I’m an even worse king. You should’ve—You should’ve just let me die.”

His statement sucks all the air from the room. Horror is mirrored on all three of his friends’ faces, but then they shift: Gladio, to anger, Ignis, to grief, and Prompto, to incomprehension.

“Noct, no…” Prompto croaks.

“How could you even say that?” Gladio asks, with a surprising lack of heat despite his palpable fury.

“Noctis Lucis Caelum.” Ignis takes Noctis’ head between both his hands, forcing Noctis to look him in the eyes. “I have known you since you were six years old. Not once have I ever doubted you, or thought you a mistake. I never wished you were anyone other than who you are.”

Noctis pulls away.

“I put all of you through so much.”

“We chose to go with you.” Gladio says. “To follow you.”

“Ever at your side,” Prompto reminds him.

“It’s not as if you chose to stay away from us. It was in the hands of the Astrals.”

“Yeah, but if I’d been stronger, or better, somehow, maybe it wouldn’t have taken me so long.”

“Don’t you get that we don’t care about that?” Prompto says. Tears are gathering in his eyes. “Fuck, Noct. We’re so glad you’re back. We would’ve waited forever. And for you to go and say that you—that you wish you weren’t here—”

Prompto’s throat closes on the words, and he’s unable to continue.

“We mourned you.” Gladio picks up the conversation. “We knew you were still alive, we could still use the armiger and summon weapons, but it wasn’t the same without you there. We were so lost without you. We weren’t living, just...existing. Until you came back to us.”

Ignis shifts. “When you left us—no. When the Crystal took you from us, we splintered. Fighting together as a team felt wrong without you beside us. We separated. We were of better use spread out across Lucis, true, but the main reason we fractured is because we were not one whole without you, Noct. But we would find a way to meet up for your birthday. Every year.”

Prompto lets out a watery chuckle, swiping at his nose with his sleeve. “Six, do you remember that crappy little cake on his 26th? I thought you were going to kill us, Iggy.”

“Turns out powdered eggs and old flour don’t a good cake make,” Gladio grunts. “Just gives you the shits for days.”

“I did the best I could with what was available,” Ignis says, defensively. Then, he sobers. “But you must understand, Noct. We missed you not just because we felt we had a duty to our king. But because first and foremost you have always been our friend.”

Gladio and Prompto nod along with Ignis’ words.

And he’s—fuck. He’s crying now. Great ugly, heaving sobs that make his whole body shake. Prompto doesn’t hesitate to dive in for a hug, wrapping his arms around Noctis’ chest and burying his face in Noctis’ shoulder. Gladio slings his arm around Noctis’ shoulders, and Ignis wraps his arms around Noctis’ neck, pressing his face to Ignis’ chest. Surrounded by his friends, he lets himself go.

He cries. For all the people they’ve lost, for all his friends have had to endure. And lastly, he cries for himself. Finally giving himself permission to. He’s getting Ignis’ dress shirt all snotty and wet, but his chamberlain voices no complaints. Instead, they all hold him tighter still.

Noctis swallows thickly. “Guys, I’m…”

“I swear to the Six, Noct.” Prompto vows, voice muffled against Noctis’ shoulder. “If you try to apologize to us again I’m gonna punch you in the mouth.”

“No, I. I just wanted to say…”

He feels so loved.

“Thank you.”

[whumperscorner]

"Hand Gagging " for the bthb please :D

Here you go! Sorry it took some time :3 it ended up slightly longer than I had planned eheh

This is the first time I’ve written and posted any ffxv stuff (even though it is one of my longest whump fandoms eheh) so please be kind :>

BTHB#2- Hand Gagging

Fandom: Final Fantasy XV

Characters: Prompto Argentum, Cor Leonis

Whumpee: Prompto Argentum

Word count: 1950

Warnings: kidnapping

It’s already dark when Prompto steps out into the crisp evening air, waves one last goodbye to his friends and begins on the walk home. Gladio had offered to follow him part of the way, but Prompto had said no. He knows the way well, and it’s not too far. Besides, he really doesn’t mind walking on his own like this. He quietly hums along to a song he doesn’t remember the name of, one Iggy had put on earlier that evening, and pulls his phone out of his pocket. He’d better give Cor a head’s up that he’s coming home soon.

*Omw home now.* He sends the message, puts the phone back in his pocket and blows a breath of warm air on his hands before stuffing them too into his pockets. He should’ve brought a pair of gloves, Prompto thinks as he absentmindedly crosses the street by a corner. One lone car passes slowly behind him when the phone buzzes. Prompto takes it out and the screen lights up with the new message from ‘Dad’.

*Fun evening? Eaten anything yet?*

*Yeah! And no, we sort of forgot.* That isn’t entirely true. Ignis had made valiant attempts at getting them to eat something substantial all evening, but he and Noct had been busy with Noct’s new game. Which Prompto had beaten him at fair and square, no matter what the prince would say to that. The two hadn’t really had time to focus on eating.

*There’s leftover thai, want me to heat it up for you?* Comes the answer from Cor, faster now than last time.

*Oh yeah thanks!* Thai sounds delicious right about now, and the thought makes his stomach rumble.

Prompto’s legs have been moving on autopilot up to this point, but now he glances up from the phone at his surroundings. Aside from one lone car at the end of the street, he’s the only one around. Prompto’s eyes land on a familiar old sign shaped like a pretzel and he sends another quick message to his dad.

*I’m by the old baker’s now, so I’ll be home in 10.*

*Great, see you then.*

*Yeah, see you later!*

After the exchange Prompto again stuffs the phone and his hands back in the warm pockets on his jacket. He looks quickly to both sides before crossing the road again, and well over on the other side he turns right. There’s a shortcut a bit further down that he plans on taking. Behind him, a lone car starts moving slowly in the same direction he’s going. But Prompto doesn’t notice it. His head is full of longing thoughts of warm thai food, and the song that he still doesn’t remember the name of.

He keeps walking for another few minutes, where the most interesting thing to happen is a squirrel jump-scaring him by running across the road up ahead. Then, the phone in his pocket buzzes and lights up to show a message from Noct. It’s a shot of the tv screen and the prince’s new game, with a new personal best he’s showing off. Prompto snickers and writes out the reply.

*Oh shit, didn’t know specs knew how to play that. He’s really good!*

*Screw you xD* comes the answer.

The two bicker back and forth for a good while, and Prompto vows to beat him again soon enough, which Noct does not believe he can do. Prompto smiles at the screen, letting his legs carry him absentmindedly along, he knows he can. He beats Noct fairly often, and not that he would brag or anything, but he’s pretty good when it comes to games.

Had Prompto been less distracted he would have no doubt realised something was off. He would have easily noticed the car, which has been following him down two and a half streets already. Never too far behind, but never passing him either. But Prompto hums and types excitedly as he walks along. It doesn’t occur to him to check, and why would it? He walks this way home all the time, and nothing bad has ever happened before.

Reaching the sharp left turn, Prompto begins on the way down the alley he knows will cut at least four minutes off of his normal walk. He gets a glimpse of the car when he rounds the corner, but it’s out of his line of sight soon enough. The alleyway here is narrower than the previous road, and darker too, but that doesn’t scare Prompto. Though something about that car does feel off to him. It feels familiar and gives him the strangest sense of déjà vu. Prompto makes a valiant effort to shake the feelings of unease now creeping up in him, but it doesn’t take long before the sound of tires screeching to a halt stops him in his tracks. He swirls around and scans the entrance to the alley, but no car is visible there. Still, his stomach twists uncomfortably, and he finds himself regretting that he passed up the offer from Gladio to walk with him.

A growing sense of foreboding dread settles in his stomach as Prompto slowly turns back around and keeps walking. He must be imagining things, he’s almost sure of it. Almost. The wind picks up, howling loudly in Prompto’s ears. The sound of it rustling the leaves on the ground could almost be mistaken for light footsteps. A chill runs up Prompto’s spine at the thought, but he doesn’t dare look back, instead upping his pace slightly. There’s probably nothing, says the rational part of his brain, but then again... How many times hasn’t Cor repeated that it’s better to trust your gut, and that if a situation feels off then it’s better to be safe than sorry? Well, it is better to be safe than sorry, Prompto decides and finds his dad’s number in the contact list. His finger is shaking slightly as it hovers over the call button, a combination of the cold and the nerves.

Just then, as he presses down on the button, something heavy collides with him from behind. His eyes widen and his mouth opens in a surprised shriek, but any sound is muffled by the big hand clamping over his mouth. Then he's yanked back, barely having time to register the screen on his phone changing to show the call trying to connect before it clatters down on the ground. Adrenaline and panic rushes in his ears and he struggles, instinctively twisting and squirming and trying to pull the person's arms off of him as he is dragged back. The haze of fear and confusion lifts for just long enough that Prompto's brain can finally catch up to what's actually happening, and it does in no way ease the panic. A muffled, terrified, squeal bubbles up in his throat and his struggling intensifies, limbs flailing as unknown hands grab around his face and chest. As if by a miracle his elbow connects with something soft and a pained groan sounds from behind, but if Prompto had any hope of that making things easier he was soon proven wrong. With a guttural curse the person behind changes direction, manhandling Prompto around so he almost loses his balance and pushing him up against the wall of the alleyway. A low whine, muffled by the hand, escapes as he pushes uselessly against the bricks in an attempt to give himself any leeway.

"Come quietly pretty boy, and you won't have to get hurt." A deep man’s voice hisses. The voice is low and dangerous, and the man’s breath is hot on Prompto's ear. It makes him shiver. He attempts to shake his head, to protest, he wants the man off of him. His fruitless struggling evidently makes the man laugh, a mocking bark of a sound comes from behind and then-

"-Prom? You there kid?" The call on his phone, now on the ground somewhere, has gone through. That’s Cor’s voice. Prompto recognises it instantly and relief floods through him. For a short moment both he and the man holding him stand completely still, then Prompto gathers himself and wrenches free of the grip. He gasps in a breath of fresh air.

"Dad! Da-" and the hand is back, clamping over his mouth again with bruising force and muffling the rest of his yelling.

"Prompto?! What's going on?" Cor's voice is louder as he presses on, more urgent. He can tell something is wrong, it's obvious in his voice, and the man holding Prompto curses loudly. Out of the corner of his eye Prompto sees another silhouetted person approaching. For one wonderful moment he thinks it might be someone coming to help, but it isn't. The other person strides forward, past Prompto and the man, and through Prompto's muffled yelling brings the heel of their boot down on the phone, hard. Once, then twice, until Cor's voice distorts and disappears and the broken screen flickers to black. With his dad's voice gone again Prompto feels more alone and hopeless than at any other point this evening, and fear grips his chest tight.

"Should teach Leonis to watch who he messes with." the silhouetted person turns back, and Prompto can see the sharp features of another man, mouth twisted in distain at Cor's name. He spits on the ground and starts walking again. "Let's move."

The man holding Prompto nods in response, and without warning manoeuvres him around to walk back towards the entrance to the alleyway. The sudden movement wakes Prompto from his petrified state, he stumbles, but is quick to regain his balance and plants his feet firmly on the ground. Cor knows something is going on. That means he'll come look for him, Prompto is sure of it. He can't let the men take him away before his dad comes for him. He bucks and twists in the man's grip with renewed energy, if he can only stall for long enough this will be fine. Cor will come and he will be fine. It's the only thing on Prompto's mind as the man holding him grunts in effort at keeping him subdued. A few feet up ahead, the commotion alerts the second assailant, who wastes no time rushing back towards the two.

"Stop fucking struggling." he almost spits the words as he comes closer, but Prompto meets his eyes defiantly. He doesn't intend on going along quietly, especially not when he knows Cor is coming. "Fine." the second man spits through grit teeth. Then, with no prior warning letting Prompto know to brace himself, a clenched first collides with his stomach. The impact knocks the air out of him, he cries out into the hand, and if it weren't for the man's tight grip he probably would have fallen. For a short dizzying moment he thinks he might puke, he tries to gasp, but with the hand still over his mouth it doesn't work. He's not getting enough air. Then they're on the move again, and Prompto has no choice but to follow suit. He's more carried than walked to the alley's entry, where the black car from before is parked just out of sight behind the corner. Prompto's heart sinks in his chest at the sight of it, and he tries one last time to pull the man's hands off of him. Some small part of him hopes that maybe if he can yell again now someone will hear and come help, but he's tired, and the hand won't budge anymore. He struggles still, of course, but his resisting doesn't help him as the men lock him up in the dark trunk of the car and drive off.

[egelantier]

fic meme!

thanks @printfogey for the tag ♥

Name(s): eglantiere on dreamwidth, egelantier on ao3

Fandoms: too many to count, but my most long-lasting one turned out to be final fantasy xv. i also dabble in tgcf, the goblin emperor, leverage, guardian, and whatever else catches my fancy.

Most popular one-shot (by kudos):

Overall: for a root, for a leaf, for a branch, for a tree, a guardians of the galaxy oneshot banged out in one hour after i came back from seeing the first movie in the theaters. it's probably never leaving this first place, since usually i hang out in fandoms of, to quote ikel, three people and a shoelace.

This year: your chains are too dark for the seas you must swim, tgcf space opera au.

Most Popular Multi-chap (also by kudos):

Overall: A Working Relationship, a fun ffxv romp with gladio and ignis getting kidnapped and working their way out of their predicament together. it was written as a kinkmeme fill, and i think it was my first multichapter fic.

This year: ain't gonna be the one left standing, also ffxv, and weirdly it also includes kidnapping (ha!). noct and ignis, ridiculous whump, a cinematic car chase and some consensual possession.

Favorite story you’ve written so far:

i have a different answer to this question every other month, but right now, in the intersection of what i wanted to write / what i wrote / how the readers responded, it's give your heart and soul to charity, also ffxv, a bittersweet permanent de-aging story. it just poured into my head and whoosh, done.

Fic you were nervous to post:

down comes the night, my first foray into writing for cdramas, guardian, ridiculously self-indulgent cave-in angst with confessions and dark, dark secrets. ironically, the very generous guardian fandom frankly showered it with love, and it's one of my top three popular fics. the more you know!

How do you choose your titles:

with very rare exceptions, it's song lyrics. sometimes i know what song i'm writing for, sometimes i pull a quote from whatever is playing and fits when i'm done with the story. sometimes it's a line of poetry.

Do you outline:

yes, although more in a sense of putting down the main beats of the story and working out its cadence. sometimes i storyboard instead of outlining. usually when i begin writing i compress or cut down the scenes, though.

Complete: 164 fics (holy crap, self)

In progress: about four projects, i think.

Not started: not a lot? i think i have two or three ideas that i either abandoned or was too intimidated to write, but generally i either dismiss things or write them to the end.

Prompts?: oh, yes. i love doing exchanges, and i love it when people are specific about what they like - not to the point of outlining the story to me, but rather giving me scenarios to bounce off. and i love the 'fandom, character, song lyric' style of drabble prompts. i usually work better when i have some hook to begin with, although then i go through an entirely long and tedious process of making it my own.

Upcoming work you’re most excited about: a secret slavefic! or a pslavefic, if i may.

No Pressure Tags: @caracalliope, @izumisays, @maculategiraffe, and whoever else wants to consider themselves tagged ♥

[whumpwriterforlife]

Ooh I saw the Bad Things Bingo and was wondering if you could do Impaled Palm for Prompto? Please and thank you!

Here you go!! I wasn't sure where to go with this exactly but the muse took me on an adventure and this is what came out! I hope you like this! This is the first time I'm actually posting my Prompto whump... This one comes with soft ending!

Fandom: Final Fantasy XV

Characters: Prompto Argentum, Noctis Lucis Caelum, Ignis Scientia & Gladiolus Amicitia

Whumpee: Prompto Argentum

Word Count: 1235

Warnings: ...impaled hand? No descriptive injuries though

--

“Noct!” Prompto moved on instinct. He saw the arm pull back, the glint of a blade in the late afternoon sun before it soared through the air. Noctis had his back to them, deep in a conversation about a close-by fishing spot with Ignis. He wouldn’t see it coming. Prompto’s feet, his whole body really, moved on its own accord as his training kicked in. There was no time for fear, no time to panic as he threw himself in front of the dagger.

A scream ripped out of Prompto’s throat as the dagger hit him, his hand. His vision went white, the pain taking over his whole being for the moment, making everything else muted and far away. Prompto thought he might have heard Gladio roar — an angry, protective sound that was reserved only for when one of them was hurt. A wet gasp left Prompto’s lips as he shifted and pain sparked through his hand, sharp and vicious. He curled protectively around his hand, belatedly realizing he wasn’t standing anymore, but lying on the ground. The gravel was rough against his temple but he barely noticed it as he opened his eyes to slits. A terrified noise, one between a gasp and a sob, left his lips as his gaze landed on his hand — and the dagger that had impaled it.

Panic ignited inside Prompto’s chest and stole his breath away. He jolted into a sitting position, a scream on his lips but then Ignis was there, instructing him to breathe, hands gentle, one on his face, one on his arm. Just follow my lead. In...out. That’s good, you’re doing great, Prompto.

Prompto tried, he really did. Breathe in, hold, then slowly release and repeat. Ignis’ eyes were kind and patient. There was no disappointment, no annoyance on his face at all. A sob burst from Prompto’s lips and then there was another figure by his side, hugging him gently. Noctis. Prompto leaned against him and breathed in the familiar, comforting smell of his friend. Noctis wasn’t hurt. If Noctis was hurt, Ignis would be with him, not with Prompto. Prompto hiccuped. He needed to be sure. “You’re— you’re okay?”

“I’m fine, all thanks to you,” Noctis assured him. He sounded slightly out of breath. “Iggy, how is he?”

“The dagger impaled his hand. I’m afraid we will have to remove it ourselves which won’t be a pleasant task,” Ignis said. He was as calm as ever but there was an undertone of worry in his voice. “We cannot use a curative before the dagger is out of the way.”

Prompto’s lip trembled and he drew in a shuddering breath. He brought the injured hand closer to his chest. “That— that’ll hurt? Like, a lot?” It was a stupid question, he knew. Of course it would hurt, they would be pulling a dagger out of his hand! Prompto wiped tears from his eyes with his good hand. It was already hurting so much. “I— I can’t— “

“Prompto, it will be alright.” Ignis squeezed Prompto’s knee softly. “As soon as it’s out, we can use a curative on it and it’ll be as good as new. Time is of essence, however, and we need to do this as soon as possible.”

Ignis turned to look at Gladio, who had at some point appeared on Noctis’ other side. “I will need you to hold him down, make sure he doesn’t move and injure himself further. You too, Noct. It won’t be easy but it is the only way. We’re far from a hospital.”

Prompto whined at the words and Noctis pulled him closer in response. He could feel the tension radiating from Noctis and realized none of the guys were any happier about the situation. The only difference was that he was the one that could feel the pain. Could feel the blade in his hand, the blood dripping down his hand. The pain was already excruciating. How was he going to survive having the dagger pulled out? It wouldn’t be as fast, Ignis would have to be careful to keep the blade as stable as possible to keep it from causing more harm.

“Blondie, look at me,” Gladio said, now from next to Ignis. Prompto swallowed hard and did as told. There was an unreadable expression on Gladio’s face, a mix of worry and something akin to...pride? Prompto whimpered. Gladio dropped to his knees and offered a strip of leather to him. “Bite down on that. We’ll do this as fast as we can, okay?”

Prompto nodded shakily and reached for the leather strap. He blinked the tears from his eyes as he looked at each of the guys. They were so good to him. “I— I trust you.”

As the guys had promised, they worked fast. Prompto still screamed, the sound barely muffled by the leather strap between his teeth. It hurt, white-hot and excruciating. The world spun in his eyes. A sickening feeling was building in his stomach and he was sure he was going to throw up but then the blade shifted again and he blacked out.

He came back to, when a curative was broken over his hand and a calm and cool sensation spread through his hand and up his arm, replacing the burning pain. The world was still spinning, Prompto realized he was trembling and overall feeling as weak as a kitten. He pulled the leather strap out of his mouth with his good hand.

“You back with us?” Gladio asked. His voice was rougher than usual, and when Prompto shifted his head to look at him, he could see an oddly shaken expression on the Shield’s face.

“Y—Yeah,” Prompto replied weakly. He brought his newly healed hand up with some difficulty — he really was absolutely drained — and looked at the thin pink line that remained of the wound. There was still a tiny ache in his palm but it was way more manageable than what it had been. “I’m sorry.”

“What?” Noctis exclaimed. He grabbed Prompto from under the armpits and pulled him so he was sitting up and leaning against his chest. “What are you sorry for? You saved me. Us. There’s nothing to apologize for!”

“Noct is correct,” Ignis said, putting his hand on Prompto’s knee. He was smiling softly. “You did really well. If you hadn’t been as observant today, things could have gone a lot worse.”

“You should listen to them,” Gladio told him and squeezed Prompto’s shoulder. “You did good.”

“Aww, you guys!” Prompto couldn’t help but blush under the praise. He dropped his gaze down to his lap, pondering on his next words. “I’m just happy Noct is okay. I just acted. I couldn’t let him get hurt.”

They talked for a while longer and Prompto’s blush only deepened as the guys praised his actions. Soon, though, it was time for them to leave as the night was starting to fall. Despite Prompto’s protests, he found himself in Gladio’s arms as the Shield carried him towards the Regalia. There was no way he would have made the walk on his own, not when he was still feeling shaky from the whole ordeal, and the guys had known it. There was a bit of good natured ribbing and everyone was in a good mood. In the end, Prompto fell asleep before they even reached the car.

[ragewerthers]

Mucked Up

Summary: While on a frog hunting mission for Sania, Noct gets into a little trouble with the bog and with Ignis.

Will he be able to fix this? Or did he really muck things up?

A/n: Hello all! This fic was created from another lovely prompt from my friend @bgn846​!  She asked for: 'Noct and Prompto go frog hunting for Sania.  One of them gets stuck in the mud. Hilarity ensues.’ This fic grew sentient about halfway through and went in a different direction then I expected, but I hope everyone can enjoy the silliness, the whump and the fluff that will ensue! You can also read on AO3 at: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27018892 Enjoy! :D

Word Count: 3822

---------------------------

The squelch of mud beneath their boots made Noct’s nose crinkle slightly.

“Why do Sania’s frogs always have to thrive in the muddiest part of the swamp?” he grumbled, slapping at his neck as another mosquito buzzed and landed on him, intent on stealing more of his royal blood.

Little bastards.

“Did you ever consider that it’s because they’re… ya know… frogs?” Prompto teased as he followed carefully behind Noct on this little adventure Sania had set before them.

“You’re hilarious,” Noct deadpanned, growling as another mosquito swooped down to avenge his fallen brethren only to meet just as grim a fate by the Kings hand.  “And what is with these bugs?!  Why don’t they go after you?!”

“Because when Mama Ignis told me to put on bug spray I listened,” Prompto said, pointing to himself with his thumb as he puffed out his chest proudly.  “You, on the other hand, were too busy trying to make sure your tackle box had those new cactuar lures because we both know you thought you’d get to fish.  Which, surprise surprise, you can’t do in a bog.”

“There could be fish in there!” Noct tried to argue, looking out into the murky water only to watch as a giant bubble of swamp gas burbled up and belched into the air.

“... if there’s a fish living in that then he is a monster and should probably be left alone,” Prompto said honestly before gagging and covering his nose as the scent of the rancid swamp gas finally wafted over to them.  “Blegh!  Scratch that!  If a fish is living in there it’s probably a daemon and we definitely need to leave it alone!”

Noct nodded quickly as his own hands came up to cover his nose, his eyes watering from the smell now surrounding them.  “Oh… oh my gods… did the swamp just die?!” he gasped, waving one hand in the air to hopefully dispel some of the smell and succeeding in sending it back toward Prompto.

“Dude!  Not cool!” Prompto cried, retching slightly as he turned tail and fled from the smell.

“It’s not like I did it!” Noct argued, trying to get away quickly as well, only to find himself listing forward as his upper half moved but his legs refused.

Arms wheeling in the air like a windmill, Noct failed to keep his balance and fell forward regardless of his valiant attempts.  His hands sank into the squishy swamp mud, the force of which sent a good few glops splattering onto his face.  “UGH!”

Prompto turned just in time to see the almost faceplant and honestly after getting bog gas wafted at him he found himself giggling at the swampy vengeance.

“That’s what you get for being terrible!” Prompto called from the firmer footing near the edge of the swamp.  “Now come on!  I think I heard something croaking over by that willow!”  Turning on his heel Prompto began to walk away, leaving a glowering Noct to try and stand up.

“Hey!  Wait for me!” he called, pausing a moment as he realized what Prompto had implied about his fate.  “And I didn’t do anything!”  When all he got back was a cackle Noct decided that as soon as he caught up with his friend he was going to give him the swampiest hug of his life!  Once more he made to step forward and almost immediately repeated what he’d just done.  His body tipping forward as his legs stayed firmly cemented in the…

“Uuuugh!” Noct groaned, looking down at the mud now encasing his boots and around his shins.  He only just stopped himself from running his hands through his hair in agitation considering they were covered in mud, dead plants and whatever else the bog had claimed as its victim.  “Prompto!  Hey Prom!  Come back!  I… I think I’m stuck!”

“What?” Prompto’s voice called from somewhere in the thicket of the surrounding forest.

“I’m stuck!” Noct shouted back, reaching down to try and somehow yank his own leg out of the muck and mire. It wasn’t until he heard a shuttering click that he knew Prompto was back and he groaned, looking up to find his friend with the biggest smile on his face and his camera in hand. “.... really?”

“What?  You know that I have to document our adventures no matter what!” he teased, only just keeping a giggle out of his voice.

Noct was less than impressed.  “Is that so?  Where was this camera when you got poison ivy on your butt?  Or the time you spilled curry on your pants?  Or the time you kissed your Chocobo?” “That was one time!  And I was asleep!” Prompto squawked back, his cheeks going pink at the memory. “And don’t think I don’t know that Gladio took a picture of that moment!”

This time Noct did laugh, smiling innocently.  “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about?  Gladio?  Do something like that?  Oh what will the Shield of Lucis think when I tell him what you think of him?”

Prompto squeaked at that and shook his head, waving his arms wildly in front of him  “Nonono!  Don’t say anything!  Then he’ll definitely be on the hunt for more embarrassing photos!”

Shaking his head at his Prompto’s reaction, Noct pretended to give a deep hum of thought.  “Well… if you can stop taking embarrassing photos of me and help me get out of here, I’ll consider it,” he said with a nod, causing Prompto to grumble even as he dismissed his camera back into the armiger.  

“You’re a real stick in the mud, you know that?” Prompto mumbled though he smiled at the word play and glanced around for some sort of vine or stick for Noct to grab a hold of.

“Oh my god!  You’ve been hanging out with Specs too much,” Noct said with a light smile making Prompto chuckle as he knocked a stick against a rock to test its strength.

“More like not enough. He would’ve had at least seven bog and mud induced puns at the ready,” the gunner joked, trying to carefully make his way closer to Prince, picking his way along the more sturdy edges of the swamp.  

Noct contemplated that as he tried to twist a little to better face Prompto as he moved.  “I mean… you’re not wrong.  He would’ve been having a field day here,” he said, imagining Ignis with that look of slight disapproval at his mistake mixed with delight at such an easy target to tease.  For all that people thought they knew about Ignis, no one ever pegged him for having a wicked teasing streak.

“Yeah.  He probably would’ve said something like… ‘Oh Noct… I do hope you aren’t feeling ‘bogged’ down.’” Prompto said, pitching his voice a little lower and trying to go for Tenebrean, but hitting something that sounded more like the worlds most obnoxious snobbish royal.

Noct instantly snorted into a ridiculous laugh and shook his head. “A-Astrals that’s terrible!” Noct laughed, shaking his head.  “Besides you didn’t add enough Iggy into it.”

“Oh?  Well then go ahead, master of impressions.  How would Ignis respond?” Prompto chuckled, looking down at his feet as he finally found what he considered to be as a good a place as any to brace himself.

Noct hummed in thought for a moment before puffing his chest out a bit and putting his hands on his hips, one of his hands coming up to push up non-existent glasses.  “Noctis, do you know how terribly terrible those stains are going to be to get out?” he spoke, his own voice tipped into a deeper Tenebrean accent that sounded like a drunk version of Ignis.

Prompto instantly burst into a cackle at the sound, the force of his laughter making him hunch over and needing the support of his rescue stick to keep him upright.  “O-Oh my gahahads!  What was thahat?!  It w-wasn’t even a pun!  You were j-just berating yourself!” Prompto wheezed.

Noct couldn’t help laughing a bit as well and smiled over at his best friend.  “What?!  Tell me I’m wrong!” he called over Prompto’s laughter.  “And you know that’s what I’m gonna hear when I get out of here!  ‘Oh Noctis, what am I going to do with these socks?  That’s it!  Vegetables for a week!  Beans and shame for you!’”

Prompto was crying he was laughing so hard, sending Noctis into a giggle fit of his own, though once he had enough breath he couldn’t help adding to the banter.

“Noctis Lucis Caelum!  How dare you ‘swamp’ me with all this cleaning?”

“Noctis, this is ‘moss’ unbecoming of a royal!”

“Oh Noct, I can only ‘lichen’ you to a bog monster right now!”

“‘Marsh’ you be so messy?”

“Come now, surely I don’t sound that harsh?” a cool and accented voice broke through the laughing fit the two younger men were having and it was like they had been visited by Shiva herself and frozen in time.

Turning to look up at a small incline that led to the swamp, Prompto and Noct were both met with a rather unamused looking Adviser and a slightly smirking Shield.

Quickly, Noct ducked down, starting to dig his hands into the muck around his legs and startling Prompto.  “Noct?!  Dude, what are you doing!?”

“Digging my own grave, obviously!” he shouted, getting a snort from Gladio which was quickly silenced by another look from Ignis.

“That’s enough,“ Ignis’s voice spoke calmly, but with enough behind the words to still the motion of the other two.  “Would someone care to explain what is going on here?”

Prompto turned his head back to Ignis, feeling the color drain from his face as those green eyes locked on him like a Coeurl ready to pounce.  “N-Noct’s stuck,” he squeaked, feeling just a little stupid now for holding onto the stick he’d found to rescue the prince.

Ignis arched an eyebrow at this and turned his attention back to the young Prince who had finally stopped digging in the mud and was looking anywhere but at them with his arms crossed over his chest.  “Is that true, Noct?” he asked.

“..... maybe,” Noct mumbled petulantly, mostly a front to hide how embarrassed he was over the fact that he really was stuck and also how he felt a bit of guilt for making fun of Ignis without him knowing.

“I see.  Well.  While I’m sure you both have an extensive knowledge of what I would say in a time like this, let me impart a bit of advice.  Just three simple words,” he said, his voice eerily calm in a way that had Prompto and Noct shrinking back a little.  “Noct can warp.”

And with that, the Adviser turned on his heel and headed back towards the direction of the haven, leaving Gladio still standing on the small hill.  The man looked down at the both of them and shook his head.

“And let me impart three little words as well,” the Shield said, lifting his hand and counting off the words on his fingers.  “You. Fucked. Up.”  With that he turned and followed the same path the Adviser had just taken.

Noct stood there for a moment, watching his two advisers… his friends… leave.  In that moment he felt more gross than any swamp gas bubble.

“You made Mama Ignis mad at me!” Prompto shouted from the sidelines, snapping Noct out of his thoughts as he turned to see a flushed and angry looking Prompto glaring at him.

“What?!  You’re literally the one who started it!” Noct shouted back, narrowing his own eyes and watching as Prompto huffed at that.

“I was joking about his puns!  You were making him sound mean!”

Noct opened, closed then opened his mouth again only to close it for a second time.  After a moment he sighed, letting his shoulders droop.  “I was,” Noct said after a moment, rubbing a hand on his arm and shaking his head.

Prompto’s glare slowly fell at that and he ran a hand through his blond hair.  “Yeah well… so was I.  I just… don’t like upsetting Iggy.  He doesn’t deserve that.  And… we really do have terrible Tenebrean accents, dude.”

Noct winced at that, realizing that not only had they both teased Ignis behind his back, but they’d also made him sound like that.  Oh god, did Ignis think that’s how they saw him?!

Noct groaned and ran two muddy hands over his face, not really caring anymore what he looked like.  “We gotta make this right.  We will make this right.”

Prompto gave a little smile at that and nodded. “Yeah.  We will.  But uh… you might want to get out of there first.  I can’t believe we didn’t think about you warping out.”

This time Noct groaned for a different reason and dropped his hands.  “That’s because we were too busy being idiots.  Specs always has our backs… even when we mess up.”

That knowledge only strengthened his resolve as he picked up a glob of mud, readying it to lob toward the edge of the bog.

Once he was free… they were going to make this right.

 ---------------------------------

“I thought your clothes were supposed to warp with you?” Prompto said as they made their way back toward camp.  Nocts boots, trousers and one sock now trophies to the swamp.

“Yeah well… so did I.  I wasn’t focusing properly,” Noct grumbled a little as Prompto giggled, but soon he felt a soft bump to his shoulder and he glanced over to see the gunner smiling gently at him.

“It’ll be okay, Noct.  We can right this with Iggy,” he promised, making the Prince give him a small smile in return.

However, as they got closer to the camp, both of them could hear Gladio and Ignis talking.  It looked like they were both facing Ignis’s camp stove, their backs turned to them as they neared and unaware of their presence.

“Iggy?  It’s okay,” Gladio said, his voice soft making Noct and Prompto frown as they glanced at each other.

”No.  It’s not,” Ignis’s clipped tone answered back, shoulders hunching a little.  “It’s not okay.  It’s not alright.  It’s not fine.”

Prompto and Noctis paused as they watched Gladio frown, his hand coming up to rest against the Adviser’s back.  “It is.  Or… at least it will be, right?”

Noct definitely frowned at that.  Of course it was going to be okay!

Ignis’s shoulders slumped and he shook his head.  “I don’t think so.  I’ve ruined it.”

What?!  Their friendship?!  No, no!  Noct couldn’t believe what he was hearing!  He was the one that had ruined everything!

Gladio ducked his head a little, his hand coming up to hold onto Ignis’s shoulder and gently moved him so the man would look him in the eyes.  “Hey.  None of that.  You haven’t ruined anything, I promise,” he tried to reassure, but the way Ignis turned his head away showed how little he believed in Gladio’s words.

“It appears I can’t do anything right today,” the Adviser whispered and then… and then, to Noct and Prompto’s horror they watched as he brought his hand up, wiping at his eyes.

They.

Fucked. Up.

“Iggy NO!” Prompto shouted, darting ahead and startling Noct, Gladio and Ignis, the latter two both turning to look with bewilderment as Prompto raced toward the haven.

Noct watched for another second before his mind caught up and he took off as well, his chest feeling heavier than he’d ever felt it before.  “Ignis please, I’m sorry!” he shouted, quickly clambering up the rocky face of the haven to get to where Gladio and Ignis still stood stock still.

Prompto was the first to get to him and quickly wrapped his arms around Ignis, burying his face against the man’s chest.  “I’m so-OOF!”  His words died on his lips as he soon felt Noct running into them as well.  Sadly, Prompto’s first attack had left Ignis unbalanced and so with Nocts extra force there was no stopping them tumbling back and into a giant heap on the haven floor.

“Wh-what’s gotten into you tw-!” Ignis began before being silenced by a litany of apologies.

“Ignis I am so, so sorry for what I was saying back there and it wasn’t fair or funny of me to make fun of you like that!” Noct spoke quickly.

“Yeah!  What he said, Iggy!  I never meant to upset you and you know we don’t think of you like that!”

“Guys?” Gladio began, but paused as Ignis shot him a look before glancing back at the two still hovering over him with the most earnest faces he’s ever seen.

“You really mean that?” the Adviser asked and Prompto and Noct instantly nodded.

“You’re the best, Specs.  I’d literally still be in the swamp if you hadn’t showed up!” Noct tried to explain.

“Exactly!  Did you see what I was trying to use to save him?  A stick, Iggy.  A stick!!!” Prompto lamented, covering his face with his hands.

“I hope you know that you haven’t ruined anything,” Noct spoke up again, leaning back a little and nudging Prompto to do the same so that they weren’t crushing Ignis.  “We… we were just being stupid, ya know?  Teasing and joking, but it was unfair to do that and about those things.  You are only ever looking out for me.”

Prompto nodded as well, giving Ignis a small smile. “Not to mention you also have some of the best puns.  We  never meant to make you feel bad or like you ruined anything.  I’m sorry we made you feel that way, Iggy.”

Ignis looked between the two of them, the equal looks of uncertainty and worry still in their eyes and as they moved back he slowly sat up as well, rubbing his lower back a little.  “While it definitely isn’t fun to walk up on two people whom I consider to be my friends talking about me in such a fashion, I can assure you that it would take harsher words then that to truly hurt me.  I have had to deal with the Council since I was sixteen, remember?” he asked, looking between the two as they ducked their heads a little.

“Still… you shouldn’t have to compare us to the Council in terms of how much we hurt you,” Noct mumbled, still unable to look up at Ignis, Prompto nodding from the other side of Ignis where he still knelt.

With a little shake of his head, Ignis leaned forward, resting his hands on both of their shoulders, giving them a soft squeeze.  “What I was trying to say is that I’m fine.  I promise.  And I really did find some of those puns to be good, though the accent was a bit offensive,” he conceded, watching as they both turned their heads so quickly toward him he thought they were going to snap something in their necks.

“But… but you… you said that things weren’t alright?!” Noct quickly tried to explain.

“You looked so sad!  And… and you were crying!” Prompto pointed out before jumping as he heard Gladio let out a bark of laughter from behind them.  “What’s so funny?!  We hurt Ignis!”

The man in question shook his head with an almost fond sort of exasperation on his face.  “While I appreciate that you two were so quick and so willing to right your wrong, I’m afraid to say that my lamenting was over what we are having for dinner.” “... what?!” Ignis chuckled a little and brought a hand up to cover his mouth.  “My apologies.  I was working on a new recipe before we realized you two had been gone too long.  By the time we got back it had already overcooked and needless to say after trying it again it just… wasn’t coming together quite how I wanted,” he explained, watching as dismay appeared over their faces.  “As for the tears you can attribute those to some rather pungent wild onions.  As I said before it would take more than what you two sa-..!” Ignis was knocked back once more as Noct and Prompto launched at him, enveloping him into the biggest hug he could remember.

“I’m sorry if I made you two worry,” he said quietly, but was instantly silenced by two pairs of eyes looking up at him with slight annoyance.

“No… you don’t get to apologize. We messed up.  And we’re sorry,” Noct reassured and Prompto followed it up with a nod before hugging him a little tighter.

“Can you ever forgive us, Mama Ignis?” Prompto asked, and Ignis really couldn’t stop a snort of laughter from escaping, making the other two relax a little at such an honest reaction.

“Of course.  I forgave you both before I even made it back here,” he said with a nod.  “Now, while I really do appreciate the hugs I think it’s best if I get up and get cleaned up considering Noct has decided to honor me with a bog hug.”

Noct instantly squawked as he sat back in horror, realizing that he had indeed coated the Adviser in mud and schmutz.  “Oh Astrals, I’m so sorry, Specs,” he apologized again, only stopping as Ignis sat up with another chuckle.

“It’s fine, Noctis.  I assure you,” he said, carefully getting back to his feet as Prompto and Noct followed suit.  “It’s nothing a little soak in some... ,”  His words stalled out as he finally took in the other two.  “Noct… where… how… what..,”

Gladio snickered a little at the look of confusion, walking over to Ignis and wrapping an arm around his waist as he looked at the Prince. “I think what Ignis is trying to ask is… what happened to your pants?” Noct looked down, face turning red as he remembered where they now resided.

“... the bog ate them,” he said quietly, the campsite quiet for only a few beats before a snort from Ignis shattered the silence.

The poor Adviser was laughing so hard he was squeaking, having to take off his glasses to wipe tears of mirth from his eyes.

Gladio, meanwhile, was chuckling beside his partner and turned to look back at the other two.  “I think you broke him,” he teased, getting a small swat from Ignis who still was trying desperately to stop laughing, but was failing miserably.  One look at Noctis had him wheezing again and turning away with an apology as he continued to laugh.

Noctis couldn’t help smiling at that and shook his head.  No.  If anything he felt he had finally fixed things.  And if that meant standing like a pantless bog monster to get his friend to laugh then it was worth it. Click “Prom!”

“I told you I have to document everything!  And Ignis cry laughing over you in your underpants is top tier material!”

Still worth it.

[altered-karma]

Chocobros Long Dark Au 

The Long Dark, for context, is a story and sandbox game based in the post-apocalyptic wasteland of northern Canada. Players are dropped into areas with hostile creatures and next to no resources depending on the difficulty, with survival of the harshest winter being their only goal. 

Naturally, I had to whump the boys with it.

Ignis wakes up first, body on top of Nocts and surrounded by the burning wreckage of their plane. 

Noct below him is breathing, thank the astral, but he’s out cold, and blood is leaking from his temple that Iggy snaps to healing with a potion

It isn't soon enough, though; a group of what looks like a crossbreed between a dog and a havoc fang are howling and loping closer, and Ignis is down an arm and half frozen to death and only just conscious himself

He takes a risk and discharges magic flask after magic flask, blizzard magic only because who knows what fuels he risks igniting with a single spark?

Needless to say, it takes a fair bit longer to bring the beasts down with an element they're clearly equipped to handle, but he gets the job done just in time for night to fall

And not a moment too soon, because the way the wind is picking up and the clouds are rolling in, Ignis knows that a storm is headed their way

There's a cave nearby that's hardly warmer than the outdoors but at least provides some cover from the wind, so Ignis drags Noctis in as gently as he can before scrounging up what he can to make camp

He tries not to look at any of the bodies just yet; they're charred and frost bitten and it's a horrific way to go and he just doesn't know if he can stomach discovering that Gladiolus and Prompto perished in such a fashion right this moment, not when he and Noctis are very much still at risk for going the same way.

He does spare the poor souls a quick prayer to the Astrals. It's the least he can do for their, hopefully not departed friends 

With a fire burning and Noctis tended to as best as he is able, Ignis settles in for a long night of watch.

Prompto wakes up alone and half buried under freshly fallen snow; only the amount of winter gear Iggy had made them wear is keeping him alive in it now, and even then he can feel the cold leeching into his very core

He's got his equipment but he's alone, and with broken ribs and a sprained wrist he's not really in a position to defend himself from the wolves when they show up.

Thankfully, he's still a hella good marksman, so he only needs them to get near him for him to put them down for good. 

It's a chore for him to get up and walk, but hey, at least he can see the smoke from here.

Noct, Iggy, Gladio, please be okay 

Prompto isn’t really sure where he is or where he’s supposed to go, but the plane that’s on fire and sending up smoke calls to him like a beacon, and Prompto knows that if anyone survived, they’ll head for it. 

Only problem: the plane crash site is at the top of a mountain, and Prompto is at the bottom.

Making his way up the mountain is painful and slow, and he only survives the numerous creatures that have him dead to rights by his magically unlimited ammo. It's his only saving grace as the weather takes a turn for the worse and he has to huddle up near a frozen corpse to survive the blizzard.

Prompto spares a moment to indulge in a rare bout of jealousy; if he’d had Ignis and Noctis latent talent for magic, he wouldn’t be suffering the cold so badly now.

As it is, any time he moves away from the small fire he’s managed to build to yell out of the mouth of the cave for his friends, he feels the hypothermia and frostbite try to set in anew, and it takes time for the fire to return his body to a more comfortable state.

He’s starting to run low on burnable things, in the early hours of the morning, when the storm finally lets up, and he’s up in the next moment to go looking for the others

Hopefully they’d found shelter; he doesn’t think even Cor could’ve survived a storm like that out in the middle of it

Prompto is only half-way up the mountain, is the worst part of it all. He still has a lot of walking to do

And then he spots a massive, burly creature that sends his constant aggressors wimpering for the hills, and suddenly his trek upwards just got a whole lot longer, because the monstrous animal is lumbering right towards the only way across the ravine.

Gladiolus, does not wake up alone. In fact, he wakes up surrounded by people, all survivors of a plane crash a couple of days ago. 

The priest there is convinced he’s one of the passengers, and his strong arm denials only lead the man to insist he not go out into the wilderness

"You don't understand, sir, there is a useless prince put there that I need to find and secure." “I’m afraid I can’t let you do that. Going out there delusional and without any of the proper gear is just letting you commit suicide.”

Gladio does eventually escape when no one notices, but is immediately herded back into the building by a pack of vicious animals, who don’t give him enough room to swing his sword. 

And he scares them off, but he thinks of Noctis and Prompto hearing he left these people unprotected against a pack of wolves, and so he’s torn between what is duty and what is right, and so he follows the pack’s pawprints up the mountain - towards where the plane crash was

He sees tracks, a second set, deep in the snow and totally different from the way the animals appear to run on top of the snow, and starts to feel a little hopeful; someone else was headed towards the crash site!

His speed picks up, and he’s freer to fight back out here, so his progress up the mountain is quick

Until he hits a little snag; the footprints he’s been following backtrack after a moment

He doesn’t see the issue, and the plane is right there, so he hopes the guy made it alright before crossing fallen tree across the crevice in the mountainside.

And runs smack into a large, brown, muscular creature almost the size of a dualhorn

A beast charging straight at him

[doodlebless]

FFXV fic masterpost

Thought I’d gather them all together now I’ve thrown in the whump towel. If Noctis whump’s your thing, here’s a good place to see it all! \o/

Be sure to read the tags on Ao3 for more info, and beware of spoilers!

Dog Tags Words: 475 [complete] https://archiveofourown.org/works/9789842 Summary: Many quests later, Dave has a gift for them as thanks for everything they've done.

Rise and Fall Words: 27,786 [complete] https://archiveofourown.org/works/9814799 Summary: "Taking in a deep breath and steadying himself, Noctis raised his arm and prepared to strike. He wasn’t prepared for the Armiger Arsenal disappearing before his eyes" Story divergent AU starting from chapter 10. An argument between Noctis and Gladio goes too far and the consequences are immense.

Evoker Words: 15,135 [each one shot complete] https://archiveofourown.org/works/10023542 Summary: A short series of stories about the tolls and consequences of summoning the Hexatheon. Spoilers for the entire game Chapter 1: The Glacian Chapter 2: The Fulgurian Chapter 3: The Glacian (II) Chapter 4: The Hydrean Chapter 5: The Achaean

Shot in the Dark Words: 44,503 [incomplete] https://archiveofourown.org/works/11001270 Summary: “He’s waiting, you know. You best not keep him any longer.” On Ardyn's words, Prompto rushes off to find Noctis. When he finds his friend broken, injured, and fearful of him, he has to get them both out of Zegnautus Keep in one piece - against both daemons and Magitek - all while facing the memories coming back to him. AU where both Prompto and Noctis fell off the train.

Conceal Words: 4,255 [complete] https://archiveofourown.org/works/11276421 Summary: "Today was not shaping up to be a good day." Also known as "Noct hides his anxiety worse than usual"

Silence Will Not Cover Me Words: 18,110 [complete] https://archiveofourown.org/works/12514472 Summary: The Hydrean's rite left nothing but destruction in its wake. Noctis is mute. Ignis is blind. Everything is a mess. Nevertheless, there is a Crystal to reclaim, an Empire to defeat. They have to keep moving, no matter what.

Glaive!Noct AU

From Ashes Words: 7,388 [incomplete] https://archiveofourown.org/works/12883332 Summary: The gods had a plan for Noctis. Regis would defy them to keep his son safe. Even if it meant saying goodbye. After a near-fatal daemon attack at age five, Noctis grows up under a new name with a new family, free to live his life however he wants. As he recovers and fights with the feeling that he's missing important, it becomes clear to him which path he longs to walk.

Familiar [part of the Glaive!Noct AU] Words: 2,702 [complete] https://archiveofourown.org/works/13839912 Summary: He wasn’t supposed to be here. Nothing fit into place. He didn’t fit into place. But if he didn’t fit into this strange new world...then where was he supposed to be? (set when Noct/Callum first moves into the Scientia household)

Fall Words: 2,861 [complete] https://archiveofourown.org/works/13232079 Summary: Noctis gets reckless during a fight with some fiesty daggerquills. Gladio’s there to help the best he can.

Breakdown Words: 2,816 [complete] https://archiveofourown.org/works/13706334 Summary: Noctis thought he'd been handling everything well, all things considered. Sometimes it takes only one moment to pull you under completely.

Every Breath Words: 8,501 [complete] https://archiveofourown.org/works/14246832 Summary: A standard hunt turns into a fight for Noct's life when a mindflayer joins the fray.

Rampart Words: 6,596 [complete] https://archiveofourown.org/works/16345796 Summary: The Regalia's out for the count, along with it goes any chance Noctis has of getting some proper sleep. He's just got one more day to hold out until everything can be as close to okay as it was before. Just one day. He can handle that...right? 

Prometheus Words: 18,924 [complete] https://archiveofourown.org/works/17265224 Summary: “Noct?” There’s no response, not even a reaction to Ignis breaking the silence. There’s a glow of magic in his eyes; it sets Ignis’ nerves on edge. He reaches a hand out slowly, carefully. “Noct? Are you alright?” “Save us…” When a search for a Royal Arm leads to an intense fight for their lives, Noctis stumbles across a strange creature, one with ancient magic unlike anything he's felt before. He's soon to learn first hand the price of such an encounter.

[beanclam]

A couple weeks ago, I posted some FFXV Become Human AU on Patreon and @asidian is strong-arming me into posting them on tumblr ^^; (although the Prompto-at-Eden-Club-nsfw will stay on Patreon). Adding my headcanon write up as well...

... so let's say in a setting where there's tension with Niflheim and Lucis (but no outright war), the Nifs gift the royal family with IGNIS. an advanced prototype android, as a gesture of Good Will.

And Regis and co are like, "thank you?!" Lucis isn't as techy as Niflheim and they have automated processes but like, what do with high tech android?

And Ignisbot is like, "I know all sorts of stuff, and over 9000 children's stories, and 3721 recipehs..." and Regis is like, YES, GOOD. And Ignisbot becomes tutor/nannybot.

So he takes care of Noctis (and sometimes Gladio) through the years, and Insomnia catches up on tech so Ignis gets upgrades and stuff but still looks the same.

Along the way, Ignis catches feelings and is totally deviant, but the Royals and most of the citadel is totally cool with it, Ignis is family after all...

Anyway, much like Detroit in the actual game, androids are EVERYWHERE in Niflheim. So places like the Eden Club exist, where clients can rent androids for sex.

About a decade after Ignis is given to the Lucian Royals, BesithiaCorp adds a new Prompto model** to it's Pleasure line, and the Eden Club adds a few models to its inventory.

A client gets a llittle too rough with one of the Promptos, so the club tosses it out with the trash. Prompto turns "deviant" in the scrap heap, claws himself out (Markus-style) after scavenging spare parts and make the hard trek out of Niflheim, posing as human.

... he eventually ends up at a garage in Leide where the ornery old owner and his cheerful granddaughter take in the homeless android... who eventually runs into the Lucian crown prince who's on a PR tour :)

** Asidian always encourages Prompto whump

PATREON | INSTAGRAM

[nicolareed]

Love love the new chapter! How much of this fic did you plan in advance? Did you ever expect to reach this many words?

Hi there! What a great question.I started writing NQHID with pretty much no plan in mind.It was some random idea about Noct waking up at the beginning knowing everything that had happened and it wouldn’t leave me alone. So wrote a lot of it with no plans of ever sharing it.

When I did decide to post it on A03 and people actually liked it I may have freaked out slightly because I didn’t have a plan and I really didn’t want to let anyone down. So I started planning seriously and my plans (mostly how it was going to end) have changed a lot in the last almost 2 years (yes it’s almost been 2 years holy crap). Especially with the more I played, looked into theories and the more lore and game additions we got. I’m very happy with my ending plans at this point, and I’m excited (and really scared) to show them to you.But there were some really clear things that I had in my head that I really wanted to happen. Like the battle when Ramuh helps them, the ice cave in with Ignis and Noct and Gladio falling off the cliff. Then there were some omg I have to make this work moments like: “Oh Noct is going to have to fight Shiva isn’t he…shit”

Meanwhile, the fic kept throwing more and more ideas at me (let’s face it, it was mostly whump and h/c based ideas 😂) and it’s gotten so much bigger than I ever imagined. I’ve spent way too much time not sleeping at 2am and writing down ideas instead because everyone knows its either showers or when you’re trying to sleep that your brain gives you all the ideas.I have never been able to write something like this before. This is the longest thing I've ever written and usually because any other time I’ve written something I get to a part that’s hard to write and give up or skip it leaving an unusable, unfinished story that’s not going anywhere.

I think the only reason NQHID is the way it is, is because I decided to publish it and everyone reading and commenting keeps me going, I refuse to skip the hard parts because I refuse to let the readers down.

And that was a long and massively rambly answer… I hope it answered your questions. lolThanks so much for the ask!

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

[breakfastteatime]

Fic: Flare Up

Flare Up for @noct-whump-week

Flare Up

Day/prompt: Day Four - Prompt “A victory is short-lived when the bros realise Noct is injured” Rating: General Audiences Ship/s (if any): None Word count: 3169 Warnings: None. Additional Tags: hurt/comfort, lots of stuff about Noctis’ old back injury, some small Brotherhood references, caring big bro Gladio ^_^

Edit: this fic also touches on an Ask I had a while back about what would happen if Noctis’ leg sometimes quit working because of his old injury. To the anon that asked, I hope you enjoy this too :D

[thefantasticalcoyote]

For @promptis-fanweek Day 4, the prompts “hurt/comfort” and “please don’t leave me” which, oh boy. I love pain and I’ve read all the Prompto whump fics but well....haven’t seen this specific injury done yet. I’m sorry. 

Title: Though Underexposed   Rating: M Warnings: Severe Hand Trauma, Blood/Gore Summary: Prompto gets badly injured after a mid-battle landslide, leaving Noctis to figure out how to fix things before it’s too late. 

 In hindsight, fighting a behemoth at the edge of the cliff was a bad idea. However, at the time ending the battle had seemed much more advantageous than trying to lure it away into less dicey territory. Noctis’ muscles had ached and they were nearly scraping the bottom in terms of curatives, so he’d focused on taking the creature down even as the battle forced his back closer and closer towards the precipitous cliff.

Just as Noctis felt he might give out from exhaustion, the rapid-fire combo of a greatsword and bullet to the behemoth’s skull finally cracked it wide open, sending the beast reeling into its death throes. Preemptive victory cries went up from his companions, and Noctis opened his mouth to join them when the behemoth crashed against the ground and sent violent shockwaves trembling through the earth that didn’t stop even when the creature’s death throes jerked to a halt.

Noctis stuck his arms out, balance suddenly thrown off at the vibrations roiling underneath his feet. His eyes widened, sweeping about the cracks suddenly forming in the stone below, one in particular zig-zagging sharply between his legs. He swore as the earth under one foot shifted, suddenly lower than the other.

He shouted out a warning and prepared himself to warp over away from the earth breaking apart beneath him, to where he thought the rest of his party stood, until he remembered Prompto was farther away from them, closer to the edge of the cliff that had started to tumble down towards the ground far below. Ignoring Ignis’ cries of warning, he sprinted towards his other friend, who seemed dazed—had he been hit by some kind of ailment during the battle none of them had noticed?—and grabbed the wrist still extended out in front on him, gun clasped in his fingers.

Noctis opened his mouth to shout Prompto into action when the ground beneath the both of them gave completely away.

The world up-ended around Noctis as he fell, hand squeezing tightly around Prompto’s wrist in a desperate attempt to secure himself though his friend was in the same predicament. He curled his arm over his head and tucked his chin towards his chest, hoping to protect his skull as he tumbled down the cliffside, body battered by stones and debris as the landslide carried him down, down, down—

Despite his vise grip around Prompto’s wrist, the force of collapsing rock slamming into his back and chest soon winded him, sending crushing pain wheezing through his lungs—enough to force him to loosen his hold. Before he could react he felt Prompto’s arm jerk out of his hold, his desperate cry of the blonde’s name drowned out by the deafening crumble of stone and earth and one awful, chilling scream.

He had no further breath himself when he finally impacted the ground below, his voice hollow at the sharp pain in his ribs as he rolled down the rocky, uneven incline. More stones bounced and clattered around him, one catching the top of his head with a sudden, stinging pain. He winced, curling in further on himself as he let his body tumble to a stop, hunched and still as he listened to the sounds around him, waiting for the thundering noise to stop.

Once Noctis was fairly sure the slide had ground to a halt, he opened up from his curled position, palms planted as flat as they could on the rough ground as he propped himself up on his hands and knees. He coughed and knit his eyebrows together, trying to force away the dizziness from his vision. Ugh.

After a couple moments of steady breathing, he managed to push himself up into a crouching position and took a look around, trying to find where he’d landed—and more importantly, where Prompto had gone.

He saw nothing, immediately, aside from broken rock and earth strewn about. The chaos of the landslide must have had tossed them apart from one another. He could no longer see Prompto, but the terrible scream he’d heard as they’d tumbled down the cliff turned his stomach to ice as he coughed more dust from his lungs, trying to squint through the haze.

“Prom?” He called, voice rough from exertion and dirt, too weak to carry far. He swallowed, getting more saliva into his throat before trying again. “Prom? You okay?”

He strained his ears, trying to hear a response and not think about the likelihood that Prompto had been knocked unconscious—or worse. He stilled even his breathing, though the blood pounding in his ears refused to quiet.

Thankfully, he could still hear the muffled sobbing despite it.

Noctis pushed him up to his feet so quickly he nearly lost his balance, boots slipping against the crumbled rock as he surged in the direction of the crying. It couldn’t possibly belong to anyone else, and as the noise grew louder and clearer Noctis’ stomach knotted tighter and tighter in fear of what he was about to find.

He carefully rounded a particularly large rock, shaking hands propped up against it as he scanned the ground, eyes falling on the dusty boot that abruptly came into view. He shoved against the rock, rushing over to his downed friend.

Prompto was splayed out flat against his back—or as flat as he could be lying with broken, scattered rocks stabbing into his spine. His body was splotched with dust and half covered in rocks, his face turned away from Noctis’, though he could hear his moans of pain all too clearly. Despite his friend’s battered state, relief washed over Noctis as he slid down to Prompto’s side, grasping the largest rock pinning him down. At least he was still alive.

But the moment Noctis tried to pry the rock off of Prompto’s limb, his body jerked like he’d been shocked by lightning. His head whipped around, eyes wide and wild with pain as he screeched. Noctis started and nearly dropped the rock, but managed to toss it to the side before his numb fingers lost their grip. He fell to one knee, trying to clear away the rest of the debris as Prompto curled on his side and clawed viciously at his trapped forearm.

“Prom, hey, what’s going on?”

Prompto could only shake his head, cries mindless from pain Noctis still didn’t understand. He felt ill with worry as he finally cleared off the last of the rubble, his vision suddenly going off-kilter as he tried to comprehend what was underneath.

It looked like some kind of disgusting red flower had bloomed from Prompto’s wrist, taking the place of his hand. Strips of flesh and bone were only barely visible thanks to the blood pouring from the horrible wound, running in streams down his arm and dripped onto the dirt below. Prompto got one brief glimpse of his hand before he choked and jerked his head to the side, eyes screwed shut. He managed to bite his lip for a couple seconds before he couldn’t help it and vomited, a dribble of fluid splattered out onto the ground.

Noctis’ sight churned, stomach tempted to follow suit.

Prompto’s gloved hand came to press up against his mouth, teeth biting into his knuckle as he fought to stay conscious. As Noctis watched, his mangled hand twitched with involuntary movement, as if wanting to join its sibling in smothering Prompto’s cries.

His face blanched, eyes moving away to stare at nothing for a moment, though the image of Prompto’s injured hand refused to leave. Noctis squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, but the pained little gasps and wheezes and muffled whimpers of gods no made it difficult.

It wasn’t like Noctis hadn’t dealt with severe injuries before, but somehow cuts and gashes and gunshot wounds to the torso or limbs seemed less bad than this. It disturbed him on a deeper, more visceral level than the usual wounds he’d witnessed. Prompto’s hand no longer looked like it even belonged to a person any more.

Noctis swallowed, feeling acid start to creep up into the back of his throat. Gods, disgusting as this was he wasn’t going to let it get the better of him, not when Prompto desperately needed his help to get through this. Any further hesitation on his part pushed Prompto further and further away from the help he needed to get his hand back to normal. If he suffered any kind of long-lasting damage after this, Noctis would never let himself off the hook.

He had a potion on hand, but if Prompto’s bones were crushed out of alignment—and there was no way they weren’t—it wouldn’t do much good. Curatives could fix fractures and cracks providing the bone had mostly kept together, but Prompto’s hand had been flattened beneath the rock, and Noctis knew all those tiny, pin-like bones were probably smashed out of place. Giving him a potion would probably do more harm than good at this point.

Noctis hissed under his breath, trying to weigh his options.

He couldn’t warp with Prompto—and probably shouldn’t, considering how bad the sudden movement would hurt his hand—but he could probably go to get help on his own and direct the others down to where they were. Sheer as the terrain was, Gladio and Ignis had access to the car and any supplies there they could use to help get Prompto up the incline to safety. He summoned his sword back into his hand, eyes flickering all over the broken rubble of the cliffside until they landed on a chunk of rock near the top that looked fairly stable. It was bit of a long shot, but if he made it he could swing his way up and get Prompto rescue all the quicker.

He strengthened his stance, rearing back to throw his sword to the point he’d fixed on, when—

“W-Wait!” Noctis froze at the voice, shuddery and raw like it’d been scraped up from the rugged terrain beneath them. Fingers—the undamaged set, his mind grimly provided—grasped at the leg of his jeans, twitching with lingering strength as they struggled to hang on.

“Please…don’t leave me…”

Noctis’ heart plunged into his gut.

Shit. Did Prompto really think he was gonna just abandon him? He opened his mouth, but found he didn’t know what to say. Prompto just kept going, like talking was the only thing he could manage to do, but then he started moving.

“Don’t…don’t leave me behind…I can…” To Noctis’ horror Prompto placed his mangled hand besides the other against the ground and, after a terse second, tried putting weight on it. He dropped to his knees, either on purpose of because the agonized cry Prompto let out sapped the rest of his strength.

“Hey, don’t—stop it, all right?” His voice came out a little harsher than he wanted, perhaps, but he hated seeing that mess of flesh and blood tremble and twitch and try to work like a normal hand would. He braced a palm against Prompto’s shoulder, pushing weight off the crushed hand as best as he could without touching any other injuries he might not be aware of. Noctis could already tell from the pain smarting through his own body that he’d have more than a few cuts and bruises to take care of later, once they were back safely with the rest of their party.

He lowered his head when Prompto failed to look at him. He squeezed his friend’s shoulder as firmly as he felt he could.

“I’m not going to leave you, all right? Just trying to figure out how to get you some help. Okay?”

After a moment, Prompto managed to nod, his eyes slipping up to meet Noctis’ for a scant moment before they returned to the ground beneath him, arms losing their last bit of foolish strength.

Noctis took a deep breath as he finally got Prompto to lay back down on his side, trying to reign in his train of thought once more now that his friend wasn’t actively trying to make his injury worse.

He knew the smarter course of action was still to leave Prompto and get help as quickly as possible, but the way his eyes screwed shut through the tears—like he was trying to hold back despite the fact that if there was ever a reason to cry, a mutilated hand would definitely be it in Noctis’ opinion—kept him from leaving Prompto’s side. Rationality begged him to leave, but the memory of Prompto grabbing onto him, whispering through his ravaged voice, begging he not leave kept him glued in that patch of blood-splattered rock, trying to think of a new plan.

At some point he’d started petting Prompto’s hair—as a means to keep his friend calm or ground himself, he wasn’t sure—fingers stroking through the locks matted with dirt and probably blood. Noctis was bleeding too, he could see the open abrasion on his arms and feel something wet trickle down the side of his temple, but his own injuries felt superficial, especially compared to Prompto’s grievous one. He was well enough to move, to walk, to help his friend along as he needed it.

And he desperately needed it.

Noctis wished he had something to properly splint Prompto’s hand before he started moving him, but they were surrounded by little more than rocks and half buried grass. The bandana from around his friend’s arm, loosened but thankfully not lost in the fall, helped to barely keep his hand together—as well as hide it from Prompto’s dazed eyes.

The cry of pain that came when Noctis slung his uninjured arm over his shoulder was inevitable. He set his expression tightly and tried to power through it as he forced Prompto to lean against him as he rose

“Y-Yeah, I know….sucks, right?” He voice lifted into a grim levity as he watched Prompto’s boots numbly scrape against the uneven earth. He half-expected Prompto to hang completely limp, but to Noctis’ surprise he managed to support at least part of his weight. The tips of his feet dragged against the ground as he tried to walk in time with Noctis, but at least he was lucid enough to try.

It was a good enough sign to convince Noctis to continue.

He glanced towards the fallen cliffside, realizing he hadn’t bothered to look up since they’d fallen down here. It was far—far enough that he marveled the fact that, as terribly injured as Prompto was, it hadn’t been worse—but not necessarily insurmountable. In fact, the cliffside’s collapse might even help him hike back up, considering the pile of debris near the bottom had created a slight, more manageable incline.

Despite that scrap of good luck, Noctis knew the cliffside was probably incredibly unstable thanks to the collapse, but going around would take too long and run the risk of getting lost further away from the rest of their party. He placed the sole of his boot firmly against a rock that looked fairly sturdy, testing it for a couple of seconds before leaning it weight on it and easing him and Prompto up atop it.

So far so good. Noctis allowed himself a sliver of optimism as he sought out his next foothold. It crumbled a bit underneath him, sending a couple of pebbles tumbling downwards, but otherwise held. He squeezed his forearm tightly about Prompto’s waist, supporting him close as they start climbing.

Noctis grew so used to the sound of his own haggard breathing and little more, that he started and nearly lost his balance when Prompto spoke up, voice so thin and worn he didn’t catch what was being said though it was right next to his ear.

“Prom? What’s that?”

His friend’s eyes were glassy even when he blinked to try to clear them. Prompto’s sigh sounded rough, like what he said had him too exhausted to try again.

“Guess….guess I won’t be taking any more pictures….huh?”

Noctis felt sick. He saw the bound hand had started to bleed through the bandana, staining the little white bone designs a deep red. He tore his eyes away, focusing back on the rocky path he’s trying to carve out.

“Dude, shut up. We’ll get you someplace where they can fix this kind of thing. It’ll be fine, all right?” Noctis tone, though wavering, offered no room for debate. Not that Prompto was up to fighting—he merely nodded weakly before hanging his head forward like it weighed more than the rest of his limp body. Their steps fell out of pace with each other as Prompto supported less and less of his own weight, but Noctis wasn’t about to let that stop them. Not yet.  

Before long, the sun started to crest over the damaged edge of the cliff up above. Noctis panted, old dust and new sweat crusting uncomfortably on his skin. There was so much more ahead.

He was starting to really feel his injuries now, as any remaining adrenaline started to ebb away, replaced by weariness. He longed for safety, for a warm bed, a tent, the backseat of the car, anything. He wanted to lay down besides his friends, besides Prompto, comforted in the knowledge that he was going to get the help he needed and come out of this as if nothing had ever happened. He wanted to wake up to Prompto laughing, camera nestled in its customary hand as he admired the pictures he’d snapped of Noctis drooling in his sleep.

A new wetness broke down his skin from the edge of his scalp. He took a deep breath, lungs tightening. The edge of the cliff finally eclipsed the sun, the rocks around him starting to shadow a deep, rusty brown.

Noctis finally stopped, legs wobbling as he rested the side not supporting Prompto against a particular large rock his mind couldn’t currently figure out how to tackle. He just needed to rest for a moment, though he knew it was a bad idea to stop. Prompto’s eyes were closed, skin paler than usual. The blood stained in his blond hair looked brighter. Fresher. That wasn’t good.

But Noctis’ legs weren’t listening to his commands. He winced, fingers curling, nails scraping against the rock. Damn it. Damn it.

He lifted his head, blinking against the fading sunlight above, and before he sagged against the rock and passed out, he thought he heard a voice—close, far, he couldn’t tell past the sudden ringing of heartbeat in his ears—call his name.

Noctis did, in fact, wake up drooling, but the sounds of Prompto’s muffled laughter and click of his camera was sadly absent.

But the sight of his friend laying in the bed besides him was just as good.

Noctis sat up quickly, but a throbbing in his head forced him back down with a wince. He rubbed his palm against his temple as he kept himself propped up on the elbow, blinking away the spots of color that’d started to pop in his vision.

He managed to identify the white walls and charts common to a clinic around them, sending a wave of relief through his body. Good. Prompto had been taken somewhere safe. From his own bed, Noctis could see that his right hand now sat resting against his chest, completely wrapped up in a thick white cast. Though the injury was hidden from view, Noctis’ breath hitched at the memory.

He hoped they’d been able to fix it.

Noctis stayed, watching, until Prompto finally started to stir. After a long moment his eyelids started to flutter, eventually opening up in slits of hazy blue that blearily focused on Noctis before taking in their surroundings.

“Oh…hey…” As raspy as Prompto’s voice sounded, it was a hell of a lot better than the agonized cries from before. Noctis managed a smile and a tiny wave.

“Hey yourself.” He shifted onto his side, mindful of the soreness of his own injuries. He could see the cuts and abrasion had been mostly healed—probably thanks to a potion or two—but the slight sting of regrown flesh remained. “You doing all right?”

Prompto’s right arm jerked as he tried to give a thumbs up. His brow furrowed, then relaxed when he glanced down to his chest.

“Oh….right.” He shook his head slightly, as if trying to clear away the same image that was permanently burned into Noctis’ own mind.

“Ugh….that was…really not fun…” Prompto moaned, his other hand coming to rest atop the cast.

“Does it hurt?” Noctis whispered, studying his friend’s face. “Like…not to rub it in but…that might’ve been the worst thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Jeez…” Prompto laughed, though his voice stayed low and muted. “It was pretty nasty though. Least I can’t really see it anymore.”

A lump formed in Noctis’ throat as he watched Prompto caressed his injured hand. He tried to put the bloody image behind him and focus on the present.

“I’m…I just hope they fixed it up right. For like….your camera and all.”

Prompto tilted his head, looking away from his cast as he looked across to the other bed, expression now tinged with something that looked unfortunately like guilt.

“Y’know…when I woke up from surgery…Ignis told me that you’d passed out carrying me….had your head pretty bashed up from the fall…you didn’t have to do that just to save my camera hand.” Prompto wiggled his free fingers. “I could live with just one, probably,” he tried to joke, though Noctis wasn’t buying it.

“Dude, come on, sometimes your pictures are the only things that keep this trip bearable.” He folded he tucked his hands into his armpits in an attempt to look serious, wincing softly at the sting. “Wasn’t gonna let some stupid rock take that away from you.”

Thankfully, that guilty expression of Prompto’s soon devolved to one of gratitude. Now feeling better himself, Noctis shifted and extricated one arm from around his chest. His hand groped out as he cleared the small space between them. Prompto, thankfully, took the hint and met him halfway with a shy lock of fingers.

Their joined hands hung between the beds, a periodic, comforting squeeze passing from one to the other until neither knew who’d started it. Noctis watches Prompto start to slip back into sleep, and just when he’s about to follow suit and get more much needed rest, he hears something small and soft that has his waking up with warmth.

“Thanks for not leaving me behind.”

[moonraccoon-exe]

Hey Coonie! I know you've had a lot going on and I don't want to put any pressure on you at all, but I was curious if you might return to the WoR angst story sometime? I love it so much! Of course, if not, that's okay too! You take care of yourself first and foremost!

HEYA, ANON! ヽ(・∀・)ﾉ

Thanks a lot for being so understanding about all that’s been going on in my real life. It’s so dear and so sweet of you to care about the life behind the icon. That speaks so good about you. Thank you for caring and for being so kind to me! (˙︶˙)

As to answer your question, nah man, have a nice day. 

Just kidding, of course I will!

I will retake the Gladnis World of Ruin angst story! 

I haven’t spoken about it because it may take a while. I want to update my chaptered story; even if it’s less popular than the WOR one, it feels like a responsibility, so I’ll look after it first. And then I’d like to answer some asks; I’ve got 70+ right now, and many are a few months old and I wouldn’t want my dear anons to think I’m ignoring them.

But I WILL retake that Gladnis WOR story, of course! I promised, and a promise is a raccoonie promise! ( ´ ▽ ` )

I already know what happens in part 5, but I can’t seem to put it down into words. But I will find my way, you’ll see, and it’ll turn out fine! :)

And if you like Ignis whump, I’m about to put up on AO3 the one story where Ardyn makes Gladio see Ignis as Ardyn and Gladio goes full rage mode and almost kills him hehe (o´▽`o) 

So yep, shall retake it sometime! Thank you for asking and for liking that story so much. It means loads to me :3

Thank you once more for being so kind to me and for caring about my wellbeing, even more considering my current situation. You’re such a kind person, thank you!!

I hope you’re having a MOST FANTASTIC day!! (ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ

[marmolita]

FFXV fic author recs

I've been meaning to do a proper fic recs post, but haven't gotten around to it, so instead here are some author recs!  This is by no means an exhaustive list of good authors, there are many more.  Check out my bookmarks for individual fic recs (though I admit I have a bunch of private bookmarks, so if you want some more, lmk).  I’ve got fics bookmarked by authors not on this list so you should check them out too, I just haven’t gone and read all their fics yet.  Sorry I couldn’t tag everyone’s tumblrs, feel free to reblog and tag people.  Also please do reblog and add your own author recs!!

ohmyfae -- lots and lots of fic, lots of AUs, lots of ships.  I like the way they write Noctis.  Some of the AUs sound really really weird, and you're like, wtf, this can't possibly be interesting or good?  but then they're GREAT.  warring brothels AU?  Gladio is Cinderella?  Ardyn sleeps with all the kings of Lucis?  WHY THE HELL NOT.

Asidian (@asidian) -- A++++ characterization, lots of canon-compliant, some fixits, shipping is mostly promptis or OT4.  Some action and drama, lots of feels!

mushydesserts (@mushydesserts) -- A+++++ writing style.  Dreamy and beautiful.  Multishipper.  Again, an author where you look at the summary and might be like huh? but then it’s GREAT.

ivorydice (@ivorydice) -- action adventure Noct whump and hurt/comfort! featuring badass Noctis.

SocialDegenerate (@socialdegenerate) -- GREAT PORN

seki -- lovely lovely ignoct, mostly.

ienablu ( @mienuxbleu​ ) -- interesting promptis ideas, plus interesting take on pre-canon Noct with lots more politics than most other fics.  Also: great sexual tension!

tsukibeam ( @tsukibeamfics​ ) -- ADORABLE promptis.  Adorable.

paopunova ( @paopunova​ ) -- Fun promptis AUs, bonus focus on how hot Noctis is that I love.

[chofitia]

“Danse Macabre” intensifies

So, @destiny-islanders has this cute idea for a Hocus Pocus!AU for FFXV. My brain is scrambled between wanting to do a serious business backstory for Ardyn (because Ardyn’s backstory + actual Salem history = holy shit this is something that I need to research for and would want to see done by a person that actually knows what they’re doing) and cute fluffy snarky talking cat Noctis with a side of Gladnis (which is probably what everyone would rather see).

Under the cut, random scenes in more or less the order in which they’re in the film. (And I need to make a note about accuracy, because between the last time I’ve seen Hocus Pocus in full and now, some of y’all were born, matured, and became BNF’s.)

Preemptive apologies if I didn’t get anything right according to what’s in your head, @destiny-islanders

They conjure.

Noctis felt their workings as a cold stone in his stomach, sinking into his bowels. And yet he was being drawn to them. Slowly, gently, like one would guide a weak calf to its mother. An hour’s walk, his mind supplied. How would this affect me at half an hour away? At a quarter of an hour away? At the door of their house?

He gripped at the hilt of his father’s sword. Lunafreya was there, and only the Six Above knew what they wished to do to her. Ignoring the cold, ignoring everything save his target, he ran.

“Who’s Ignis?” came a voice--a very familiar and very annoying voice--from the door. 

Gladio took a pillow and chucked it at the door. There was a very satisfying whump as it hit the frame. Iris, his target, had dodged and was still at the door. There wasn’t any justice in the world.

“Is Ignis someone you like, Gladdy?” Iris rocked back and forth on her heels, which she had to have seen in some cartoon or something. “Are you gonna date? Are you gonna get married?”

Gladio felt his face warm, just a little. “A guy in my history class,” he muttered. “That’s all.”

“Are you Ignis?” Iris asked someone for approximately the thousandth time that day. Not that Gladio was counting or anything.

The blond kid (Wasn’t he in Gladio’s gym class?) put down his camera and squatted down to Iris’s level. “Nope, sorry.” He pointed to his hat and then gestured to the garish as fuck shawl-thing he had on. “I’m a witch, and I need a cat. How about coming along with me?”

“You,” Iris said, “are a stranger. I shouldn’t trick-or-treat with strangers.”

“The Sciencias,” said Prompto, with the air of someone that had gone trick-or-treating for too damn long, “always give out great stuff. Like last year, they had these awesome chocolate covered candy apples that--”

Iris was already up the stairs and knocking at the door.

Prompto headed up the stairs, stopped midway, and turned back to Gladio. “You want me to get some for you, big guy?” 

“‘m fine, thanks,” Gladio said. Just slowly dying of embarrassment, no big deal.

“You sure? Iggy said this year he and his uncle were making caramel popcorn balls and--”

“Trick or Treat!” Iris screamed at Ignis, who was smiling fondly and holding a tray of what had to be the haute couture of popcorn balls. Gladio forced himself to think that his thumping heart was caused by Iris’s voice and not the fact that Ignis looked unfairly gorgeous in a coat and waistcoat. And tight breeches. And white stockings. Which showed off his legs.

“Gladdy,” began Iris. “Why’s it so bad that you���re a virgin, anyway?”

Gladio choked on his water.

“It isn’t bad,” answered Noct with a swish of his tail. “In my day it was a sign of righteousness. You were expected to be so until you were married.” He shrugged, as much as an immortal talking cat could shrug, “Though it’s not always how it goes.”

“So... anybody who isn’t married could’ve lit the candle?” Iris looked at Noct expectantly, one black cat to another.

“No, just someone who hasn’t known anyone,” Noct replied.

“But wait,” Iris said, “Gladdy knows Prompto and Ignis. So he’s not a virgin, then?”

There were times in his life where Gladiolus Amicitia was glad he was so well-read. This was not one of them. That isn’t to say he wouldn’t like to “know” Ignis, but maybe after a few dates. And after helping out an immortal talking cat by defeating three child-eating witches. That too. 

[ragewerthers]

Heart to Heart

Summary:  After overhearing a fight between Gladio and Iris, Prompto attempts to make things right and reassure Gladio when the pain of his losses finally becomes too much.

A/n: This is another fic for my good friend @bgn846 for our F3S!

She asked for: "Gladio gets in a fight with his sister and gets really upset about it. Prompto finds out and helps them patch things up. if they (Prompto and Gladio) happen to hug a lot then ya know that’s sooo cool. :)''

I really hope that I was able to hit the mark with this, my friend and that you get to enjoy a lovely dosing of whump and fluff!!!

You can also read on AO3 at: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21509398

Enjoy! :D

Word Count: 2655

------------------------------

“I don’t understand why you won’t let me come with you!”

“Because it’s dangerous out there!  I’m not just going to let you run off and get yourself killed!”

Prompto blinked his eyes open bearily, looking around their small room at Cape Caem.  Only last night had they made their way to the small house, the place almost like a mini oasis with all the mayhem they’d had to deal with over the last few weeks.  The cool colors of the room mixed with the light breeze carrying the scent of the ocean into the room should’ve been enough to keep him feeling at peace and content… however…

The slowly raising voices echoing from outside were making it difficult to find any sort of peace and an uneasiness was starting to settle in Prompto’s gut.  It sounded like Gladio and Iris, but he couldn’t be sure, at least not from here.  Sitting up he glanced over to find Noct was the only one still in the room with him and the Prince was out like a light.  And judging from the timbre of the voice coming from the open window it wasn’t Iggy getting into an argument this early in the morning.

He could hear the argument picking up again and slowly scooted his way out of the bed he had shared with Gladio the night before.  It was one of the few chances they’d had in awhile to just cuddle and rest without worry.  With Gladio’s duties taking precedence far more now with the fall of Insomnia, they had let their relationship take a backseat.  That didn’t mean they still didn’t steal little kisses or soft touches, but listening to the argument right now made him worry for his boyfriend.  Something he hadn’t been expecting as they got here and were allowed a moment of rest.

Tiptoeing toward the open window he peeked his head up just high enough to see over the sill, eyes scanning to find the two arguers.  It wasn’t long before he found whom he was looking for.  The two Amicitias’ were standing under a tree near the back of the house. Prompto could just make out Gladio’s broad back and could tell he had his arms crossed in that ‘I’m a big bad shield and you aren’t going to sway me’ way he would.

That being said, while he couldn’t see the Shields face he could see Iris’s just over Gladio’s shoulder and she looked mad.  It was almost as terrifying as Gladio’s angry face and that was saying something.  It was one of those times that you could really see the family resemblance between them.

However, his thoughts were soon interrupted as the argument picked up once more.

“You go rushing into danger all the time!  What does it matter if I want to do the same?!” Iris shot back, stomping her foot.

Gladio seemed absolutely unperturbed and kept his stance.

“I don’t go rushing in, Iris.  I’ve been trained for this my entire life and I know you learned a few things from Dad, but…,”

That seemed to be the exact wrong thing to say as Iris seemed to turn three shades redder in anger.

Oh yeah… you could definitely see the family resemblance there.

“I learned a lot from Dad!” she shouted and Prompto could see the moment it clicked with Gladio that he’d said the wrong thing.  The Shields shoulders lowered from their guarded position and he unfolded his arms, one of his hands going up to scratch the back of his neck.  Prompto knew this body language as well.  It was the ‘I fucked up and need to back track’ move.

“Iris… look… I know Dad taught you a lot.  It’s just… this is different, okay?  This isn’t practice.  This isn’t like our spars at home.  Dad wouldn’t want yo-..,”

“Stop it, Gladio!  Don’t you dare tell me what you think Dad would want for me!” Iris shouted, cutting off her brother.  “You don’t get to put words in his mouth!  You don’t get to make choices for me and then say that it’s something he would’ve wanted!”

“I’m just trying to protect you!” Gladio shouted back, Prompto wincing away from his hiding spot and knowing that he really, really, really shouldn’t be watching this, but he was too invested now.  “You know that it’s what Dad would’ve wanted!”

“I don’t know because he’s not here to ask!  Only you are and it… i-it’s not fa-fair!  It’s not fair!” she stammered, the anger in her eyes giving way to the hurt she still felt so deeply.  There was a momentary pause then… Prompto peeking back up to see the way Iris’s head had bowed, trying to hide her emotions as Gladio’s hand reached out, but seemed unable to move closer.

“Iris… listen I...,” Gladio’s voice was much quieter now and Prompto could tell the man was regretting his earlier words, but the younger Amicitia wasn’t having it.  Iris’s eyes turned back to her brother and the anger she harnessed only seemed to flare up once more.

“No!  How can you be so… so horrible?!  Saying what Dad would’ve wanted and talking about him only to make your own argument!  How can you be so… so heartless?!”  Without waiting for a response Iris turned and ran from her brother, leaving the Shield stood there under the tree, the words seeming to have frozen him in time.

Not good.  This was… just… not good.  Prompto could see Gladio’s arm lowering back to his side, see the way his hands were clenching into fists and starting to shake.  The argument had gone too far on both sides and some damage control needed to happen like… yesterday.  He knew he needed to get down there.

Stepping away from the window he scanned the room for his boots, quickly grabbing them before heading out of the room and tugging them on as he went down the stairs.

It was a wonder he didn’t topple over and go tumbling down the stairs in his mad dash and he had just reached the back door when he heard it.  A loud, guttural snarl followed by the sound of something smashing nearby.

“Gladio?!” Prompto called out, quickly opening the door and wondering if some daemon had managed to get past all of their defenses and caught the man off guard.  What he found was far more unsettling.

The Shield was breathing hard and leaning against the side of the house, an old crate smashed beside him.  Gladio’s face was hidden in his trembling hands as he seemed to be trying to calm down, but Prompto could still see the tension coursing through every fiber of his darling’s large frame.

Seeing the man so on edge tore at the poor gunners heart and he knew he had to do something to remedy this.  Clearing his throat to alert the Shield that he was there, he felt his heart break just a little more as Gladio startled and quickly looked away from his direction, running a hand over his face as if trying to hide whatever he was feeling.

“Mornin’,” Gladio greeted after a moment, his voice sounding a little gruffer than normal.

“Morning,” Prompto greeted back, though he found he couldn’t quite put his usual pep into his words.  Part of him wanted to play along with Gladio and act like nothing had happened, but… in doing so… nothing would be remedied.  So… after taking a deep breath he decided to dive in.

“So uh… listen…. please don’t be mad, but… I… sort of… heard you and Iris out here,” he said quietly, moving closer so he could stand beside Gladio.  He could see the tension only growing in the man, the way his jaw worked itself as if he was fighting to keep himself in check.  “Do… do you wanna talk about it?”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Gladio dismissed instantly, making the gunner quirk an eyebrow at him as he lightly nudged a piece of wood from the broken crate with his foot.

“Really?  Then why did this box have to suffer?” Prompto asked simply, ducking his head a little to try and catch Gladio’s eye.  The Shield finally looked at his partner properly.

Prompto offered the man a small smile and little wave as he was finally caught his attention.  “I’m right here if you wanna talk, you know.  Maybe I can help?”

“I know, Prom… I just… I don’t think you can help with this…,” Gladio said quietly, his voice smaller than Prompto had ever heard it.  “Not unless you can reverse time or bring back the de-...,”  Gladio’s voice cut off as he spoke, his eyes closing tightly as he shook his head.  “Fuck… I’m sorry I…”

Prompto wasted no time now, stepping around the broken pieces of the crate to wrap his arms around his boyfriend neck and bringing him down into a hug.  He may have been smaller than his mountain of a boyfriend, but in this moment he wanted nothing more than to shield the man from the pain so clearly etched into his heart.

It wasn’t long before he felt Gladio’s arms around his waist, the man burying his face into the crook of his shoulder.  He could feel the way Gladio’s breaths came out stuttered, feel the way his fingers held onto his vest like a lifeline.  All he could do in this moment was to be here for the man and try to allow him the safety he needed to finally break.

“I wish he was here, Prom.  I wish I could ask him what I'm supposed to do now.  What I can do to keep Iris safe?  I miss him so much, Prompto… gods do I miss him,” Gladio whispered against his neck, his voice strained as he hugged the gunner closer, Prompto gently soothing his hand against his upper back in little circles.

“I know you do, Gladio…. I know,” he whispered gently, turning his head to press a little kiss against the Shields temple to offer whatever comfort he could.  “I also know what’s going on in your head.  I know you too well now.  You have to know that you’re not horrible… and you’re not heartless for trying to think of what your Dad would want.  I think you’re right, in a way.  That Clarus wouldn’t want Iris going out there… but… just because he wouldn’t want it… doesn’t mean he wouldn’t allow her to make her own choices, you know?”

“How long were you listening, Prom?” Gladio’s muffled voice asked after a moment, making the blond smile a little sheepishly.

“Awhile.  The Amicitia’s have voices that can carry,” he offered, getting a small huff from Gladio, though it felt like progress.

He pushed at the mans shoulders a little, making him stand straight once more and trying not to let his own heart shatter to see the redness surrounding his eyes.

“I just… I can’t lose her too, Prompto.  I can’t,” Gladio whispered, ducking his head slightly.  “Maybe it was heartless of me to use Dad as an excuse, but… it would break me if anything happened to her and I couldn’t be there to protect her.”

“Nope.  Nuh unh… we aren’t playing this game,” Prompto said more firmly now, moving his hand to lay his hand Gladio’s chest, right above his heart.  “You have the biggest heart I’ve ever seen, Gladio.  You are not heartless.  You just want to keep your sister safe and that is like… the least heartless thing I can think of!”

Gladio looked back up to Prompto as he spoke, his amber eyes still holding a depth of sadness that Prompto didn’t think he’d ever fully understand, but hoped to somehow make easier for his partner to bear.  His expression softened a little and he reached back up to hug the man close once more, feeling some tension starting to leave his partners body.

“Your heart is loving, caring, big and strong.  It cares so much that it means it can also hurt more than its fair share,” he whispered.  “I know Iris didn’t mean what she said.  I know it.  And I know that you two need to talk… key word is ‘talk’ here.  We’ve all been through a lot… and you and her have been through more than most.  I don’t want this fight to come between you two and be something you regret later on.  I didn’t know him very well, but… I think your Dad wouldn’t want you two to fall out over something like this.  I… I think now… more than ever he’d want you two to find strength with each other.”

Prompto hoped he hadn’t overstepped a boundary as he spoke, but a small sigh and a little squeeze around his middle made him think he’d chosen just the right thing to say.

“I still don’t like the idea of her going out there,” Gladio whispered, leaning back slightly, but keeping his arms around Prompto’s waist.

“I know you don’t, but… Iris is smart and brave… and bullheaded… like someone else I know,” he teased gently, bringing his hand up to gently card through Gladio’s hair.  ”She’s going to make her own decision whether you like it or not.  Maybe… instead of fighting her on this… you can try and figure out a way to help her or make it easier?”

Gladio leaned into the light touch to his hair, though he narrowed his eyes slightly at the idea.

“Hear me out, big guy.  What if you and Iris asked Cor to help?  He trained you just as much as your Dad did, right?  If anyone can make sure that Iris goes out into the world safe and secure, it would be Cor,” Prompto offered, waiting to see if maybe this might help to alleviate some of the tensions between the two siblings.

After a moment of thought, Gladio gave a little sigh and nodded.  “It’s… not the worst idea I’ve ever heard,” he admitted begrudgingly, though a little smile made its way onto his face, something Prompto considered a massive step in the right direction.

“That’s me!  Master of things that are not the worst,” he joked a little, leaning up to press a small kiss to the man’s cheek.  “Now… I think the best thing for you to do is go and find Iris and talk to her.  You guys will make this right.”

Gladio smiled a little more at the kiss, ducking down to press one against Prompto’s brow in return.

“Thanks, Sunshine.  For everything,” he murmured gently, making Prompto’s chest feel warmed through and through.

“Of course, big guy… that’s what I’m here for.  Giving you ideas that are not the worst and making sure you make good life choices,” he joked a little, earning himself a light pinch to his waist that made him flail and squeak before he wriggled himself free.  “What was that for?!”

“That was for eavesdropping,” Gladio chided gently, making Prompto flush up once more before finding another soft kiss pressed to his cheek.  “But that’s for helping me.  I’ll see you inside in a little bit.  I’m gonna go find Iris and apologize.  Have a little heart to heart and see what we can do to work this out.  Okay, Prom?”

WIth his cheeks now scarlet from the sweet gesture, Prompto could only nod, earning him a chuckle from the Shield before the man went off to try and smooth things over with Iris.

Prompto really did hope that the two siblings would come to an understanding and deep down he knew that they would.  The bond they had was far too strong for a few harsh words to come between them.  They both were still hurting and reeling over their losses, but… Prompto knew somehow they would both come out stronger for it in the end.

[constantconfuse]

Fishes Give Stitches... or something like that. (a Final Fantasy XV injury/sicfic) 1/2

When an early morning fishing trip turns almost lethal, Gladio is left in pretty rough shape. But, when things are looking better, he develops some complications that give the Chocobros quite the scare. Between ornery Garulas and bloodthirsty daemons, they'll have to make it back to Lestallum to get him the attention he needs.

This is my solution to the lack of Gladio whump. There wasn't enough, so I made MORE.

MMMMMMM I realized that I should probably just do this as a text post SO HERE WE GO redo~

unfortunately there is no sickfic in this part, but there is injury. im still gonna give it that tag tho so it’ll be findable when i do post the second part.

Read on Ao3 here~

It was a misty morning in Cleigne. The wan rays of early light fought to pierce through the dense fog to two men walking along a secluded path, weighted down with rods and tackle boxes. The duo picked their way carefully through the underbrush on the nearly hidden trail beneath their feet as they wandered closer to their destination.

“There she is, Noct. This is the spot I was tellin’ you about when we set up camp.” Gladiolus stopped to gesture with the tackle box. They were on a slight rise just before they hit the fishing spot; a small, murky pond that was probably deeper than it looked,tucked away in a forested grotto. Admittedly, all Gladio could see from their position was the dock but he’d gotten a good look when they were hunting for a haven the previous night.

“Wow. I wonder what kind of fish are here…! With how secluded this place is, there’s gotta be some veritable monsters in this thing.” Noctis’ eyes were sparkling, that much Gladio could see. There was very little that Noctis would get up early for, but fishing? He’d beat the sun for that.

“Well, Your Highness?” he gestured to the dock with a grin, “After you.”

Noct started down the incline towards the dock with a kick to his step, “Looks like it’s big enough for both of us to set up. Gladio, what side do you want?”

The two men bantered back and forth in their usual manner as they settled in to spend the morning fishing. Noctis, of course, claimed what he considered to be the best side, and Gladio let him have it with a roll of his eyes. He didn't care what side of the dock he fished off of, he just wanted to bring back something big for breakfast. Ignis had promised the previous night to treat them to something that sounded fantastic if they did just that.

The sun crept ever higher over the horizon as the minutes passed in comfortable silence; the two had already caught a few fish, but they had thrown them back in hopes of a better catch. The fog still settled heavily around them, unphased by the light. Gladio looked around them, squinting, “Kinda weird how the fog’s not goin’ anywhere.”

“Who cares?” The prince grunted as he recast his line out into the murky water, “‘sides it's probably because of the trees. The light just hasn't hit the fog yet.”

Gladio looked behind him and quirked an eyebrow, “Sounds like a load of bullshit.”

Noctis just shrugged. He didn't know how this kind of stuff worked, and frankly he didn't care, “Maybe it's some kinda magic, and this is an enchanted pond,” he adjusted his grip on his rod so he could sit on the dock, one leg underneath him and one dangling just above the water’s surface, “And little did we know, we've been fishing up the guardians and now we're cursed…” he shrugged again, “Or something like that.”

There was a solid second of silence before the both of them erupted into laughter. Gladio howled, gripping the post next to him for support, “What the hell?! Where'd that come from?”

Noctis was dissolved into giggles, holding himself around the middle, “I-I don't know, but wow . I think Prompto’s rubbing off on me!” he managed to catch his breath after a bit more giggling, “Seriously though, I wouldn't worry about the fog. Maybe it's just a weird phenomenon that we're getting to experience first hand. Let's just focus on the fish.”

Gladiolus chuckled a bit, “Yeah yeah, Your Majesty, don't wanna scare ‘em off, got it.”

Despite his best efforts to focus on fishing, the unease from the still remaining fog ate at him. He sat hunched over, nerves on end. He was no longer focused on his tackle in the water, but on their surroundings; something didn't feel right, and Gladio just couldn't place it. He came to a conclusion: they needed to leave.

He opened his mouth to say as much, “Hey, Noct--” But he was interrupted by a loud groan of frustration from the younger man.

“What the hell is this? Nothing’s biting now!” he leaned back on his free arm. His face was furrowed into a cloud of irritation when he looked at Gladio, “This is your fault. Your crazy loud laugh scared off the fish.”

Gladiolus stared at the Lucian prince before sputtering, defensively, “What?! I sure as hell did not! Besides, it's probably for the best,” he glanced up to the sky, “Can't see shit through this fog but I'm pretty sure we need to head back to camp. Iggy’s probably waitin’ on us.”

Noctis gave Gladio a look that could only be described as a pout, “But we haven't caught anything decent yet! Just a little bit longer, the fish will be back any minute now, I know it.”

“Noct, come on ,” the shield ran his hand through his hair, “You sound like a damned toddler. Let's call this a wash and get the hell out of here. This fog ain't natural, I don't care what you say.” He stood from his seated position and started packing up his things before turning to Noctis’ box. A hand on the lid stopped him, “Noct, I'm serious. We're leaving.”

“Then you go. I'll catch up in thirty minutes,” he had recast his line in a slightly different position with a new lure, “I'll be fine, I'm just going to catch one fish. I'll be right behind you.”

Gladio knew this routine. He also knew there would be no convincing Noct otherwise, but still.

“Fine. But I'm waiting on the path, and if you're not up there in thirty minutes, I'm hauling you back to camp whether you caught a damned fish or not!” he scooped up his own gear and stomped off the dock. For good measure he turned and yelled, “Thirty minutes!” Noct just waved and adjusted his line.

Gladio stalked up the slope to the crest of the path. He slumped against a tree with the gear tossed next to him, grumbling angrily. In seconds he had his phone out, first to set an alarm, then to send a heated text message to Ignis… but he had no cell signal, so the text would have to wait. He impatiently tapped his foot, straining to hear any signs of the Prince leaving…

But he heard nothing.

With a sigh, he let his head fall back against the tree. This was going to take a while.

Several minutes passed and Gladio wished he had brought a book with him. He occupied himself with a mundane game that came with his phone-- King’s Knight apparently required a data connection. A splashing noise caught his attention and he lowered his phone, squinting back into the fog. That sounded like Noct hooking a fish…

“...what the--?! WHOA!!” That didn’t sound good-- “Gladio--!!”

An even louder splash echoed, and Gladio was vaulting down the path with his sword slung over his back, phone discarded by the gear. He stopped at the edge, scanning the depths. Noctis was no longer on the dock; he was nowhere to be seen on shore. That could only mean one thing...

He ran to the edge of the dock and hastily searched the water. It took him seconds to find what he was looking for--bubbles.

“Shit!”

Letting his weapon return, he ripped off his shirt and dove into the murky water. Beneath the surface, he finally saw what he was dealing with.

Noctis was surrounded by sahagins; he had daggers in his hands, slashing every direction, but landing no hits. In the water, the beasts had the clear advantage. Red floated in the water around him...he’d been injured somewhere. Gladio’s brain went into overdrive; his weapon would be too cumbersome underwater, he had to do without. Using the momentum from his dive, he swam for the beast that was about to dig its teeth into the Prince. He hit the sahagin full in the side, knocking it off course. Noctis swirled in the water, eyes wide with surprise. He shared a look with his Shield for a second before hastily handing Gladio a dagger. They would have to fight their way out, and quickly. They wouldn’t be able to hold their breaths much longer.

Using the opening that Gladio’s arrival had created, Noctis swam as hard as he could towards the surface. Gladio noticed he could only use one leg, which explained the blood. He followed Noct as best as he could, swinging the dagger at the aquatic beasts when they got too close. Most of them didn’t seem to want a difficult meal and were losing interest, but a few looked hungrier than the rest and kept pursuing.

Ahead of him, he saw Noctis break the surface after some desperate swimming. His own lungs were burning from the lack of air, but they had almost made it… Almost.

He felt the force before he saw it. A bigger, older, clearly sneakier sahagin rammed into his side, sending him tumbling back towards the others. The force from the blow startled him into taking a breath and water flooded his nose and mouth. Panic started to set in; there was no way he was going to stay conscious if he had already inhaled water, plus now he was staring down what was clearly the alpha of the pack… how had they not noticed these guys?! The dagger had been knocked from his hand, and he knew. He knew this was where he was going to die. Well, he was going to go down fighting at least.

The sahagins rushed him, and Gladio braced himself, but a bright light cut through the water, distracting him… he looked up. The Shield’s eyes widened.

He saw bright, crackling light. Then he felt pain. And then it all went dark.

---

Noctis gasped with effort and pain as he dragged Gladio’s form out of the water. His leg was burning and he didn’t even want to think about how it looked. His first concern was to make sure he hadn’t just accidentally killed his friend.

He dropped next to his knees next to Gladio, his hands hovering in uncertainty. He knew Ignis had taught him what to do in this situation, but his panicking brain wouldn’t let him remember.

Noctis couldn’t believe he had summoned Ramuh with his friend still submerged. But, like he had been since the first sahagin had snatched him by the leg off the dock, he panicked… and apparently that was enough. The sahagins were dead, and Gladio probably was too…!

He shook his head hard. He couldn’t let this stop him, he had to think. What was it…? He had to check if he was breathing… nope, definitely not breathing. Then was it… chest compressions? Right, then mouth to mouth. Gross… but that didn’t matter.

Noctis desperately started trying to revive his friend, his memory jogging as he performed the action. He ignored his own injury, knowing that the time to fix it with potions was running out, but he didn’t care. He had to bring him back…!

After about three or four desperate minutes, Noctis sat back on his heels with a panicked sob. It wasn’t working…! He didn’t know if he was doing it right, but he was trying! He buried his hands in his hair and pulled, breathing escalating. There had to be something… something!

He gasped. Of course, why didn’t he think of this sooner…? He shoved his hands into his pockets and pulled out a sodden feather. It was a bit worn around the edges from the water, but it should have still been functional. The Prince scrambled for Gladio’s limp hand and wrapped the feather in his fingers, crushing it. Light flooded the Shield’s body, and Noct held his breath.

Seconds passed, and just as Noctis was about to give up hope, Gladio’s eyes shot open. He scrambled to try and roll to his side and Noctis gave him a push to help as he started to retch water.

“Gladio…!!”

The Prince crawled closer, patting him on the back to try and ease the retching and coughing. The shield’s arms were shaking once he could catch his breath, and he fell face first back onto the ground, panting. Noctis hovered, “Are… Are you alright?”

Gladio turned an eye to him, chest still heaving, “Am I… alright…” he lifted up on his elbows, teeth grinding, “Just… peachy… after you almost killed me !” The angered screech had him hacking again, dislodging more water.

Noctis deflated, “I-I’m sorry… I panicked, I… I shouldn’t have…”

Gladio put up a hand, stopping the Prince. Noctis’ mouth closed with an audible ‘clack’ and Gladiolus fell back down, rolling onto his side with his eyes shut, “Gimme… sec… hah…” After a few minutes of trying to get his breathing under control, Gladio sat up, “We’ll… We’ll talk about this later,” he looked at Noctis, “...You… alright, Highness?”

Startled, Noct sat up straight. His leg throbbed, reminding him of his own injury, and he cringed. He shifted until he could get a look at the bite and he paled. It was… gruesome to say the least. And now that he was looking at it properly, and the adrenaline was wearing off, it was starting to hurtproperly as well. He grunted as the pain flooded over him and he gripped at his knee, “I… I don’t think so…!”

Gladio cringed at the wound; it looked like the sahagin had done quite a number. He was frankly amazed Noct had been able to pull him from the water. He looked at the prince, “How long’s it been? If… If you can still use a curative, use it now.”

Noctis nodded, “Think… it hasn’t been too long…” He reached into his pocket again digging desperately for the familiar shape. His fingers wrapped around it and he hastily pulled it free, crushing it in the process. The healing glow flooded through his body, and he grimaced as the muscles in his leg began to repair. He sighed with relief and let his forehead rest on his knee, “Thank the Six…”

“Damn right, that would’ve been nasty if it had gotten infected,” Gladio offered. He looked at the remains of the phoenix down in his fingers. They had so few of those already, Noct must have really been desperate… he couldn’t stay too mad over what happened knowing that. He sighed, but grimaced when a sharp pain flared in his chest, “Shit… ow… damn, those things must’ve done a number on me… can’t breathe too deep.”

Noctis looked sheepish, “That… may have been me. I tried to do CPR before I used the phoenix down, so…” his eyes turned downcast, “I don’t think I did it right.”

“No, actually… that’s not uncommon,” Gladio grimaced again. Yeah, that felt like a broken bone… “Do you have any other curatives? That should fix it.”

Noctis nodded and dug in his pockets again, but he turned up empty, “...oh, I only had the one…” At Gladio’s withering expression, he frowned, “I didn’t think I would need to bring more, alright?! And yours are probably ruined…”

“Yeah, they are.” He confirmed, taking the remains of an elixir out of his pocket, likely destroyed from Ramuh’s electricity. With his hopes for a quick recovery dashed, he rolled to his feet with a groan. Noctis scrambled up to support him when he wobbled; the rib that Noct broke was more painful than he thought and it almost brought him back down, “I'm alright, I'm alright,” he gasped at the prince, trying to reassure him, “Just hurt more than I expected. Let's… let's get back to camp. Iggy’s gonna kill us.” he started back towards the slope through the now lifting fog. He couldn't even begin to guess what time it was.

“Here,��� Noctis slipped under the shield’s arm, “Lean on me-- don't argue, or I'll make it an order.”

Gladio’s mouth shut, effectively cutting off the complaint that was on the tip of his tongue,  “Yessir.” His voice was laced with amusement, “But only if I have to.”

Noctis huffed, a small smile on his lips, “Fine. I can take that compromise.”

They started back towards camp, passing the gear Gladio had left. The shield paused, “Grab my phone, will ya? Should be around here somewhere.”

“What about the rest of our gear?” Noctis looked back towards his abandoned rod wistfully.

“We can come back for it later, it's not gonna go anywhere,” Gladio scanned the ground, “It's over there, grab it for me?”

“I wonder if mine still works…” the prince handed off the device to his Shield.

“You might have to put it in some rice and hope for the best.”

Noctis groaned.

---

To say that Ignis was angry was putting it mildly. Ignis had long surpassed angry and had gone straight into absolutely fucking hysterical . As soon as they cleared the entrance of the fishing grotto Gladio’s phone positively exploded with notifications. He scrambled to remove it from his pocket just in time to receive a phone call from the advisor himself. He barely had a chance to glance at the notifications, but what he saw were all missed calls, all from Ignis. He braced himself, “Yeah?”

“Where are you?” the edge on Ignis’ normally calm tone made even him wince.

“We're just leaving the fishing spot, Iggy, we’ll be--” Gladio tried to explain, but was cut off.

“Do you know what time it is?” Gladio could tell the question was rhetorical so he kept quiet, “You were due back two hours ago.”

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Noctis cringe. He wanted to cringe, too. He sighed, but it was cut short with a grunt when his rib reminded him of why that was a bad idea. Gladio swore he could hear Ignis’ eyes narrowing on the other end of the line, “Ignis--”

“What happened.” Damn this man and his perceptiveness. That wasn't even a question, it was a demand. He wasn't going to be able to play this one down at all.

Reluctantly, he answered, “There… was a bit of an incident.” he paused, listening to the tense silence on the other end. He let out a groan, “Look, can we just explain when we get back to camp? I'm not gonna lie, I'm in pretty rough shape, and I'd like to save my energy for walking, alright?”

The silence continued. Just as Gladio was about to check if he had been disconnected, Ignis spoke, “Is Noctis safe?”

Gladio huffed a short, painful laugh, “A little waterlogged, but he's just fine.” He could feel the relief from the other man. He glanced at Noctis, who had been rather quiet this whole time. He saw him looking off ahead, guilt etched into his face. His heart ached, “Hey, Iggy.”

“What?”

Gladio cleared his throat, “Mind giving us a lift?”

A soft chuckle filtered through the line, “Get to the road, we’ll meet you there.”

---

Gladiolus and Noctis hadn't gone terribly far to fish; By foot, it had taken them just a bit longer than thirty minutes to get to the grotto. Despite that, Gladio was thrilled when Ignis and Prompto met them at the nearest stretch of pavement. Just the walk there had caused the shield some considerable pain, though he’d done his best to make sure it hadn't  shown too much.

Prompto was the first one out of the Regalia, rushing to Gladio’s side opposite of Noctis and helping to support him, “Wow, you guys are drenched! And where’s your shirt, Gladio?”

“Dunno. Took it off when I dove in the water,” Gladio muttered, “Didn’t think it was that important, so I didn’t look for it.” Ignis was holding the door of the Regalia open for him, and he eased down into the back seat with the others’ help. The roof was up, and the stretch to get himself into the seat drew a pained groan from the shield.

“I'm assuming you abandoned the gear to avoid possible enemies?” Ignis asked from the driver's seat. The Regalia thrummed as he shifted gears, taking them back towards camp. Prompto turned in his seat to watch the bedraggled pair, concern in his blue eyes.

Noctis shook his head, “No, we couldn't carry all of it with Gladio injured. We decided to come back for it later.”

Ignis nodded, “A wise choice. We can come back in the morning.” His eyes drifted to Gladio in the rearview. He took in the way the larger man was breathing shallowly and the hand pressed to his rib cage, “I still want an explanation.”

Gladio nodded, “‘course.” He looked out the car window as they pulled up as close to the haven as they could get, “Once we get to camp we’ll give you a rundown.”

About thirty minutes later--once everything had been said and done with Gladio settled into a camping chair with an ice pack, a change of clothes, and a potion for pain relief-- Ignis mulled over what he had just been told.

He thought he had been furious earlier. Now he was livid.

But no matter how hard he tried to stay angry, the feeling faded. He leaned back into his own chair, letting out a long sigh from his nose and crossing his arms. Noctis sat across the fire, next to Prompto; Ignis watched him tense in response to the sound. He'd spoken only when it came to his part of the incident, content to let Gladio explain what he could. He’d kept a stony face, but his clipped tone and averted gaze gave away the guilt he felt. Yes, Ignis was not pleased with how the Prince had handled the situation, but…

Would the outcome really have been any better if he had reacted differently?

“Noctis.” The prince looked towards Ignis, away from Prompto’s camera; They must have been going through today's photos. Ignis thought carefully on his next words, “In the future, let's take more care to not catch our comrades in the cosmic backlash, shall we?” Noctis’ eyes widened, “Ramuh normally wouldn't have caused any harm to us, but it sounds like it was the pond that conducted the electricity that did the deed.”

“You're… not mad?” The Prince was staring at Ignis, voice subdued.

Ignis smiled, though it was conflicted, “I'm not pleased… but, I believe that Gladio’s fate was going to be rather dismal no matter the outcome. While not the ideal choice, it still saved his life, in the end.” Ignis leaned forward and met eyes with the Prince, “You needn't feel guilty for that.”

Noctis’ eyes glimmered suspiciously in the firelight and he had to turn his head back towards Prompto. His hand came up to swipe at his face, “...I won't.”

Ignis’ smile softened and he stood, “Well, I’ll whip something up for dinner, then we can all get some rest. You two need it.”

The soft sounds of Ignis cooking filled the haven, and the two boys started discussing the photos again with some minor ribbing from the blonde on Noctis’ behalf. Gladio smiled and closed his eyes, relaxing into his chair. The ice was making his ribs hurt less, and before he knew it he was dozing lightly until a bowl of food was nudged into his hands. He accepted it with gruff thanks…

In that moment, he truly felt like everything was gonna be just fine.