Prompt Post

Mar. 1st, 2017 05:21 am
[personal profile] ffxv_kinkmod posting in [community profile] ffxv_kinkmeme
 Welcome to Round Two of the FFXV Kink Meme!

CLOSED
 for prompts | OPEN for fills

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Prompt, write, draw, comment, and most importantly have fun!

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UPDATE 3/2/2017: Per the Rules thread: Do not hijack prompts. I
f someone posts a prompt for one pairing, don't comment to say "I want to see this for [other kink]" - post your own prompt for the other kink). To that end, if you are unclear on a prompter's kinks/DNWs, please feel free to ask about them. If you ask about kinks/DNWs or to clarify a prompt, you are in no way obligated to fill it.

Additionally: Do not repost prompts from the previous round in their entirety. By this we mean copying and pasting prompts without any changes. If you see a similar prompt to a prior prompt, that is not a repost. Obviously prompts that are reposted per the above rule do not count either. (After all, they will be similar but not the same.)


ROUND TWO IS NOW CLOSED FOR PROMPTS!

Go ahead and keep on filling away, we will open up round three for prompts at 0000 EST, Saturday April 22, 2017.


Gladio/Noctis - war prize AU

Date: 2017-03-01 11:28 am (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
Gladio is the chief/leader of a warrior kingdom who beats the Lucian army and gets to pick an appeasement prize. He chooses Prince Noctis.

Make it as kinky or as cracky as you like.

Re: Gladio/Noctis - war prize AU

Date: 2017-03-01 01:07 pm (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
omfg Y E S

Re: Gladio/Noctis - war prize AU

Date: 2017-03-02 03:57 am (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
THIRD please ;A;

Re: Gladio/Noctis - war prize AU

Date: 2017-03-04 12:50 am (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
I like how you think OP because this is N I C E

Fill: 1/? Re: Gladio/Noctis - war prize AU

Date: 2017-03-07 03:33 am (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
Messing with kingdom traditions/worldbuilding a little to fit the AU. I hope you like this!

*******************


When Noctis Lucis Caelum arrived at the Amicitia stronghold at the border of Duscae, he came alone.

The gate sentries spotted him first: A slender, dark-haired man in a simple black tunic and leggings, dripping with gold chain and crystal. Diamonds winked on chains fine as thread in his hair, gold bracelets snaked up his wrists, and he wore a black cloth collar laced with gold wire. His feet were bare, and the guards who apprehended him flinched at the angry scrape of red at the soles.

He was brought to the tent where the King was to receive visitors, and was left under guard for two hours. King Gladiolus had informed them that he was not to be woken for trifles, and went about his daily routine with deliberate slowness, taking his time.

When he finally entered the tent, Prince Noctis lifted his head with a clatter of precious stones. His hands were bound behind him to his ankles, making him arch his back in order to put on any semblance of a decent posture.

"We assumed you'd have a company with you," the King said, gratefully taking a cup of water from an attendant. The Prince's gaze focused on the cup in his hand with a surprising intensity, and Gladiolus moved it to see if his eyes would track it's progress.

"We don't send soldiers to accompany dead men," the Prince said, in a short, cracked voice. Gladiolus sat on the wide chair in the center of the tent and frowned thoughtfully.

"I'm afraid my grasp of your language fails me," he said. The Prince watched the cup as he took a slow draft. "Is this metaphorical, or do your people assume that I'll execute you so soon?"

The Prince seemed to take a moment to consider this. "Both," he said at last. "When a soldier is taken as a... spoil of war..." his lips twisted in a grimace, and Gladio smiled. "He is considered dead. Even if he is a prince. I walked out of my funeral pyre six hours ago."

"Excuse me. You walked out of a pyre?"

"They lit it after I left." Noctis shrugged, and the collars and chains at his neck and arms clinked softly. "Metaphorical. But also literal. My father will have to find a new heir, soon, and technically, I have no claim on my name."

The King whistled low. "That's cruel, even for a Lucian."

"You were the one who chose me," Noctis said, a fierce anger only now breaking the surface. "To humiliate us."

Gladio's voice took on a hard tone. "And you were the ones who lost the war." He rose, and looked down on the young man on the floor beneath him. "You walked all this way alone? You could have run."

"I may not be a prince any longer," the young man said, "but I won't abandon my people. If the treaty calls for it..."

Gladiolus laughed bitterly. "How noble. I'd almost believe it, if I didn't see you personally set fire to half of a battlefield with that gods-cursed magic of yours. Guards." The guards in attendance straightened to attention. "Get that shit off of him and take him to be outfitted properly. He looks like a noble's whore."

"And that's not what I am to you?" the former prince asked, with no small amount of surprise. The King didn't even look at him.

"The chance you had to address me directly is done," he said. "And no. To be anything to me, you'd need dignity, and a soul. I know you well enough to know you have neither."

"You think I'd--"

"Luche, if you please." A guard stepped forward: There was an almighty crack, and the dark-haired man folded in on himself, panting faintly as a red mark bloomed on his cheek. Gladiolus went to the cup of water by the chair and brought it to him, tipping his head back so he could stare up at the lip of the cup leaning over him.

"Beg for it," the King said, in a voice so low it was a purr. He could feel the man's aching thirst in the way he trembled under his touch, the way his hands strained at his bonds.

Noctis stared up at the water as though he were dying, but said nothing.

"Very well." The king dropped the cup to the floor, letting the water splash over the prisoner's knees, and left him alone and gasping in the tent. "You'll learn."

Re: Fill: 1/? Re: Gladio/Noctis - war prize AU

Date: 2017-03-07 03:47 am (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
Ohhhhh FUCK yass @_@

Fill: 2/? Re: Gladio/Noctis - war prize AU

Date: 2017-03-07 01:44 pm (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
Gladiolus spent most of the day with his advisors, drafting up the terms of surrender for the Lucian army. It was a long, exacting process, full of needless protocol and reminders from helpful clerks that Lucis was proud, Lucis was expansive, Lucis would starve before the first winter thaw. King Gladiolus learned what years of fighting King Regis' mages should have already taught him: The sons and daughters who would have taken up the plow had instead sown the earth with blood. Crops rotted in the fields. The desert of Leide swallowed what fertile ground could be tilled, and even with the mystical crystal to guide them, the kings of Lucis could not prevent the oncoming wave of famine.

Now, as the man who had finally laid the house of Lucis low, it was Gladiolus' job to find a solution.

He returned to his rooms with a splitting headache, nursing a cup of willowbark tea as he stepped into the study that lay between his bedchamber and his private reception hall. When he heard a low, croaking voice in the bedroom, his hand nearly flew to his sword before he remembered: The prisoner. Of course.

"It's alright," he heard the former prince say, almost gently. His voice was accented when he spoke in the Amicitia tongue, thick and heavy. "I won't hurt you. Just pretend I'm not here."

There was a shuffling sound, and a clatter. "Here," the man said. "I'll... Hm. If I turn around like this, I almost blend in with the curtains."

There was a nervous, high giggle. "No you don't." That had to be Liona, the maid who cleaned Gladiolus' rooms. "Now you're just ridiculous."

"Exactly. Hardly frightening at all."

Gladio opened the door to his chambers, making Liona jump in surprise. She was folding his nightclothes over a privacy screen, and the prisoner did indeed have his back to her, twisted painfully around on his knees at the end of a heavy rope. His attempt to make the maid more comfortable had led him to pull the rope taut, causing it to tug his neck back by a new, metal collar padded with cloth. His feet were bound with gauze, and he wore a simple tunic in the Amicitia blue and grey. When he saw Gladiolus, the faint humor in his eyes died immediately.

"Enjoying captivity so soon?" Gladio asked. "Thank you, Liona, that will be all." He waited for the maid to bob a curtsy and leave, then firmly latched the door shut.

"Your country is a gods-awful mess," he told the prisoner, heading behind the privacy screen to disrobe. "I've half a mind to raze it to the ground and start over. Good thing I have you in that case. You're good at destruction."

The prisoner--Noctis, he supposed he should call him, now--seemed to bristle at the accusation. He struggled to turn towards the king. "I'd never--"

"Don't give me that shit," Gladio said shortly. "I was there the day you showed your true colors. I did your kingdom a favor, taking you out of the equation. I can only imagine what it would be like to have a monster running the country."

"You don't understand," Noctis said, slipping into his native language. "I wasn't the one who--" He seized and coughed, dry and painfully, and blinked in a quick, disoriented way.

"Hell's wrong with you?" Gladio started tugging on his nightclothes. Noctis grimaced.

"Your mage put a stasis spell on the collar," he said. "And I haven't had any... It's been a long day."

Ah, the famous Lucian pride again. Gladio glanced at a pitcher of water at his bedside, just out of reach of the prisoner's rope, and made his way to it.

"You say that Prince Noctis is dead," Gladio said to him. He held the pitcher in both hands. "Prove it."

The man swallowed. A very long moment passed, both of them watching each other, Gladio with eternal calm, Noctis with mingled fear and disgust.

"Please," Noctis said, in a small, tight voice. His gaze was fierce enough to burn.

"Please, what?"

Noctis' lips quirked. "Your Majesty."

"No," said Gladio, walking towards him. "Master will do."

Noctis visibly recoiled, and the king's smile was all teeth. He dipped two fingers in the water and bent down, holding them to the prisoner's cracked lips. Noctis closed his eyes and let Gladio push his fingers along the younger man's tongue. It was barely enough for a few drops, but Noctis sucked reflexively, desperate.

Gladio tried it three more times. On the fourth, Noctis was trembling, on the verge of being well and truly broken by thirst and humiliation in equal measure. Affording him a mercy he didn't deserve, Gladio poured him a cup and held it to his lips.

After the second cup, Gladio put the pitcher away. He climbed into his bed, drawing the curtains on one side, and pulled out a book on astronomy. He'd barely opened it when he heard the rustle of cloth. Noctis was staring at him, looking lost and somehow young, his lips parted and cheeks flushed pink.

"What?"

"Where am I..." he switched to Gladiolus' language again. "Where do I sleep?"

Gladio huffed. "Where you are," he said, and turned back to his book.

Re: Fill: 2/? Re: Gladio/Noctis - war prize AU

Date: 2017-03-07 02:28 pm (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
This fill gives me LIFE anon, you have no idea.

The part where be made Noct suck his fingers was just... umph, perfection. <3

Fill: 3/? Re: Gladio/Noctis - war prize AU

Date: 2017-03-07 08:38 pm (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
Gladiolus woke in the early hours of the morning to a dull ripple of movement at the foot of the bed. Thrown into instant alertness, he pushed himself up by one hand, reaching for the blade he kept hidden behind the mattress and headboard.

At his feet, obscured partly by the ironwork of the bedpost, the former prince Noctis panted in the dark. He was drenched in sweat, his hair curling at his temples and neck, and his pupils were blown with adrenaline. Gladiolus recognized the wild-eyed, erratic gasping of night terrors from his time on the field, when companions would wake in the ditches with no notion of where they were, frozen in a too-close memory of death and fear. Gladio watched the young man slowly gather his bearings, registering the quiet of the fortress around them, the safety of enclosed walls. His hands were still bound, so he leaned heavily on the foot of the bed to hold himself upright.

"It smells like death in here," he whispered.

"No," said Gladio. "That's just your brain fucking with you."

"Prince Gladiolus?" the man turned unfocused eyes to him, and Gladio cursed inwardly. Noctis was well and truly gone, lost in whatever dream had overtaken him.

"King Gladiolus, now," he said. "Do you know who you are?"

There was a long silence. "I don't know. Gods. I don't know, I--"

"Alright. Shit. I'm coming." Though he didn't know why. It was almost instinct--Gladio always looked out for his soldiers, was quick to put himself first in battle and last in a retreat, just like his father, and even if this man on the floor was nothing more than a war criminal raised to command, he was... in a way, his.

"I'm gonna untie you," he said, in a low voice. "But you need to promise not to try and strangle me."

Noctis didn't respond. He sat back on his knees as Gladio untied the rope from his neck and wrists, and let himself be lifted to the bed. Gladio sat in front of him, and waved a hand in front of his eyes, checking his response time.

"You're Noctis," he said, in the same low tone. "You lost the battle of Leide a week ago, and the Lucian army surrendered. You've been given to me as part of the terms of peace. That make sense?"

"Yes," Noctis said, slowly. "You're going to execute me."

"What? I--"

But the young man wasn't listening. He lifted his hands to his face, shoulders trembling as he tipped forward. His forehead touched the center of Gladio's chest, and the king carefully, carefully laid a hand over his soft black hair.

"Thank you," the former prince of Lucis whispered. "Thank the gods."



When Gladio woke again, it was to the sound of a body falling out of the bed next to him.

"Oh," he said, in a dry voice. "You're awake."

Noctis let out a string of Lucian swears that was almost inspiring, and made to climb onto the bed again. Gladio made a clicking sound against his teeth, and the man looked at him with frank confusion.

"Once you're out, you're out," he said. "You only use the bed on my order. Last night was an exception."

"Last night?" Noctis' eyes widened, and he scrambled at the hem of his tunic. Gladio rolled his eyes.

"You just slept, princess. When I fuck you, you'll know." He groaned and got out of bed.

"And will you?" Noctis asked. "Fuck me, I mean?"

"That's why they sent you," Gladio said. "You know what Lucian appeasement gifts are. Also, it's early, so I'm letting this slide, but from now on? You ask for permission before you speak to me."

"Do I need to ask for permission in order to ask for--" Noctis gasped as Gladio grabbed a fistful of his hair, looking down at him for a long moment.

"That right there?" he said. "That's the kind of shit I don't need. You want the peace talks to fail?"

The color drained from the prisoner's face. He opened his mouth, closed it, blinked slowly.

"Permission to--"

"No," he said, and he watched a shiver run down Noctis' skin at the sound of it. "I think it's time we lay down some ground rules."

Re: Fill: 3/? Re: Gladio/Noctis - war prize AU

Date: 2017-03-07 08:54 pm (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
Aw man, I wonder if he's gonna make Noctis beg to be allowed to piss. >D

I'm loving this so far!

Fill: 4/? Re: Gladio/Noctis - war prize AU

Date: 2017-03-08 02:53 am (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
lmao why am I adding angst to this?!? Ohhh well, smut will arrive shortly.

-----

On the day King Clarus Amicitia died, four miles of land on the border of Leide and Duscae burned to the ground.

Prince Gladiolus numbly watched the smoldering wreckage where his father's squadron had charged not hours before, crouching in the safety of a Hunter's lookout. The fire had burned so strongly that no one could recognize the remains of those who had perished, but the truth was clear: At the time that Prince Noctis had lifted his hands and called fire down onto the battlefield, over seven hundred of his own Lucian soldiers died in the resulting blaze. It was Lucis' greatest loss of the war, and it was all done to kill one man.

Gladiolus had known that his father could die during the war. He had been raised to battle, taught to value his subjects' lives over his own. The kings of his country were called Shields for a reason, and the protection of their people should always be at the forefront of their minds.

In the dark mess of the killing ground, a young man in black walked over melting patches of ice. Prince Noctis stood in the center of the scarred earth, a small figure in the sights of Gladio's spyglass, and his face was cold and unreadable.

There are monsters who walk the world on two feet and call themselves men, Clarus had told him, long ago. Only then, staring down the man who would abandon his people for the sake of a minor victory, Gladio knew what his father had meant.


---


Noct fell to his knees on the stone floor of the dining room with a hissing gasp.

"Might want to respond a little faster next time," Gladio said, in a dull, uninterested tone. The guards who had kicked the prisoner's knees out from under him moved back to their places at the wall, and Noct cast the young king a glare of pure hatred. Gladio casually reached a hand out to grip his jaw and tilt it away and down. He held him there for a moment for emphasis, and turned back to his meal.

"Cor," he said, to the man sitting at the other end of the table. "What are you doing up so late?"

At least, to his credit, Noctis remained kneeling throughout the meal. When Gladio slipped down strips of toast and ham, he felt slender fingers gingerly take them, and knew that the man was trying not to seem overeager. After a few minutes of this, Gladio wiped his hand on his napkin and leaned in to whisper to the young man at his side.

"A little gratitude is appreciated," he said. "Not every day you're hand-fed by a king."

"Like a dog," Noct spat back.

"Not true," said Gladio. "Dogs are bred to be loyal. No one could say that about you."

He pushed back his chair and stood, saying his goodbyes to the men and women remaining around the table. He made it five feet towards the main hall when he turned to find Noctis still kneeling, glowering at him darkly.

He snapped his fingers. The ripple of disgust that ran through Noctis at that was almost palpable, and it was obvious that it took a great strength of will for him to rise to his feet and follow. Laughter followed him out--The men and women of Gladiolus' country had little love for the wild mage of Lucis, if the jeers that echoed through the fortress halls were any indication.

If Noctis' feet were still sore--and Gladio suspected that they were--he didn't show it as he followed Gladio through his daily routine. But when they stopped at the king's bedchambers shortly after midday to retrieve one of his reports, the prisoner's legs failed him at last. He buckled against the door-frame for all of a moment and slid to the floor.

"They grow them scrawny in Lucis," Gladio noted, and Noctis glared up at him.

"Permission. To speak. Please." He grit it out like a challenge, and Gladio raised his brows in mock concern.

"No."

"This is pointless," the man said anyways, showing a stunning lack of regard for his own safety. "You don't even want me as a prize, you just want to humiliate me."

"Yes. And?"

This silenced Noctis. He frowned up at the king, searching his face. Gladio sighed and leaned over him, hands on his hips.

"Do you know why I asked for you?" he asked.

"I killed your father."

"No." The prisoner looked truly surprised at that, and Gladio laughed bitterly. "No, I chose you because you were willing to sacrifice your own people. You'd never be a king. Just a monster, a dictator. Someone to overthrow."

Noctis closed his eyes slowly, and took a long, even breath.

"Then you're holding back," he said. Gladio rocked back, unnerved by the glint in the man's deep blue eyes. "I'm here. I was given to you. I came to you. Do what you want."

Gladio stepped away, turning to face the bed at the end of the room. When he spoke again, his voice was so low and rough that it seemed almost unfamiliar to his own ears.

"Strip."

Re: Fill: 4/? Re: Gladio/Noctis - war prize AU

Date: 2017-03-08 03:15 am (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
Fffffffffffuuuuuuck Y E S

(Also, I am so intrigued by what Noctis supposedly did. "The wild mage of Lucis," LOVE that)

Fill: 5/? Re: Gladio/Noctis - war prize AU

Date: 2017-03-08 01:33 pm (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
How do y'all like fucked up, emotional sex? :)

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

Soft, useless slippers, stained with blood at the heels, lay against the oak dresser of King Gladiolus' bedchambers. They were joined by grey leggings, and a tunic in grey and blue that fell in an unruly tangle of sleeves and wide hems.

Gladio hissed through his teeth.

"That beautiful, Your Majesty?" Noctis' voice had a mocking edge, and his eyes were bright and cold. Gladiolus had seen that look in battle, when Noctis had been a prince and the most terrifying of his father's mages, breaking through the lines of the enemy as he froze their blood from the heart outwards. The young king was suddenly grateful for the stasis spell on Noctis' collar. Even now, stripped of his power, his title, his pride, there was something dangerous twisting behind his too-bright eyes.

Gladiolus ran a hand along the other man's shoulder-blades, and felt a tremor ripple under his touch.

The young man's back was riddled with scars. Some were old and faded almost white, some raw and pink, raised in criss-crossing patterns. Hardly a palm's breadth of bare skin was left to him; the damage was so extensive that Gladio wondered how he could possibly still be alive.

"Those are whip weals," the king said. "We're you captured...?"

"No."

Gladio's smile was wry. "Your people love their royal family," he said. "No one would whip a prince."

"I haven't been a prince in anything more than name," Noctis said, slowly, "for two years now."

Two years. That was the time that Gladiolus' father had been killed, along with hundreds of Lucian soldiers--at Noctis' hand. He met his eyes again, and Noctis' smile made his stomach go heavy in dread.

"King's orders, after the battle," he said. "One for every squad we lost." His smile was humorless. "It took a while."

"You're sick," Gladio whispered. Again, Noctis shrugged.

"People believe what they have to," he said, which was an odd thing to say, but Gladio was through listening to him. This was a terrible idea, letting a viper into his bed, but he'd gone this far already...

When he gave his next order, Noctis came willingly.

For all that he was forever speaking out of turn, Noctis was strangely quiet when Gladiolus took him, stretched and sloppy with lube, on the soft carpet. Gladio was used to responsive partners, to drawing out their pleasure and adapting to fit their needs. An indifferent man just left him cold, and he pulled out after a minute of this, looking down at the scarred mess of Noctis' back.

"This was a mistake," he said.

Noctis rolled to face him. "Permission to--"

"You'll do it anyways."

"You weren't going hard enough," Noctis said. Gladio raised his eyebrows. "You aren't looking for a lover, Your Majesty." He lifted a foot to Gladio's shoulder, and closed his eyes briefly when his thigh was shifted for a better grip. "Quit acting like I am one."

"You don't give the orders," Gladio said, in a low voice, but when he thrust into Noctis anew, hard and fast and to the hilt, the man beneath him moaned.

The carpet, however plush, had to chafe the sensitive scar tissue of Noctis' back, but he simply writhed and panted and whimpered under the swift, forceful thrusts of the larger man pinning him down. His hands clutched at Gladiolus' chest, and he rocked back onto him, urging him to push deeper, the slap of flesh drowned out in his helpless cries to keep going, Your Majesty. Gladiolus. Please, please, gods, I want, I want you to...

He came before Gladio, tightening around him as his seed spilled onto his chest and stomach. The tension in the other man's body proved too much, and the king came on the heels of it, slamming into him once, twice, before letting pleasure take him.

Noctis lay sprawled beneath him, gaze hazy and dark, not at all like the battle-ready gleam that had been there before. He looked oddly vulnerable, almost melancholy, and when he let his head fall back, Gladio almost forgot who he was and swept back his sweat-damp bangs.

Almost.

He smacked the side of Noctis' thigh and pulled out. "Clean yourself up," he ordered. "The day isn't over, yet."

"Yes, my Lord," Noctis whispered, still lost in the fog. Gladio shuddered, and rose to retrieve his discarded clothes.

Re: Fill: 5/? Re: Gladio/Noctis - war prize AU

Date: 2017-03-08 02:12 pm (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
Surprisingly, not as fucked up as I was imagining this would go! (The sex, that is. The stuff about the whipping IS pretty damn fucked up)

Fill: 6/? Re: Gladio/Noctis - war prize AU

Date: 2017-03-08 05:25 pm (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
Attempted noncon in this one, but it's not described in detail.

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

In retrospect, perhaps Gladio shouldn't have been so quick to gag him.

Noctis' new docility lasted as long as it took to scrub himself down over a basin in the king's private bathroom. As soon as he emerged, fresh-faced and with only a slight bow to the legs to show for Gladiolus' efforts, the spark of defiance was back in his eyes. Gladio had to press down on the back of his neck to make him kneel again, and he climbed into his clothes with considerable slowness.

It took three catty remarks for Gladio to break. He had an attendant fetch one of the thick leather gags they used in on-the-field surgeries, fitted it tightly between Noct's teeth, and tied it firm enough to stretch the corners of the man's mouth.

He cuffed his hands again for good measure. Noct rolled his eyes, but flinched away when one of the guards shifted forward, and held out his hands with a sigh.

When it came time for Gladiolus' daily sparring session that afternoon, a guard came in with a thick chain and secured Noct by the collar to one of the benches overlooking the training yards. Noctis sat cross-legged on the bench, the picture of noble languor, and gently massaged the soles of his feet.

Gladio ignored him, focusing instead on the heft of his sword, the balance of his step, the heat of the day. He was nearly back in the comfortable, quiet mindfulness that always came upon him in the midst of a fight, when he heard a booming clatter behind him and a shout of pain. He lowered his sword and turned to the commotion.

Noctis had yanked the chain so forcefully that the bench he was sitting on had overturned. The young man was lying on his back, a knee to the groin of one of the younger enlisted soldiers, cuffed hands gripping the links of his chain as it wound around the soldier's neck. The soldier scrabbled at the chain, but his mouth was parted in the desperate gasp of a man on the edge of consciousness.

Gladio reached them just as the soldier was going under, and wrenched Noctis' hands from the chain. The soldier collapsed on top of the dark-haired man, coughing and gasping, and Gladio gently pulled him to the side to get more air flowing through his lungs. Noctis stayed where he was, panting silently, limbs trembling with adrenaline.

"He's mad," the soldier said, when he could finally choke out the words. "All I did was walk past him and he..."

Gladio looked from the soldier to Noctis, and noted the red flush to the prisoner's neck, and the leggings that had been tugged down to his thighs. Leaving the soldier to catch his breath, Gladio crouched over the other man, who jerked back and raised his knees in self defense.

"Yeah, I know," he said, softly. He avoided Noctis' flailing limbs and tugged his leggings up again. Then he carefully loosened the gag and pulled it down to his chin.

"He's right," Noctis said. Gladio glanced back at the soldier, whose eyes widened in astonishment. "Took one look at him and thought, well, all this chain can't go to waste..."

"The mage is a menace, Your Majesty," the soldier said. "We all know what he's capable of."

"Mm." Gladio unhooked the chain from the bench and wrapped a loop of it around his wrist. "What do you say, Noctis?"

"Smart men you have here," Noctis said. "You should listen to them."

Gladio shook his head and fit the gag back into Noctis' mouth, gaining a strangled cry of protest. Then he turned to the soldier, his eyes hard.

"You will report to Cor for punishment detail," he said, and the soldier stiffened. "If you'd take advantage of a prisoner, I cannot trust you among your fellow soldiers. There will be an investigation, I assure you." The soldier opened his mouth, and he lowered his voice. "Cor. Now."

"Yes, Your Majesty," the soldier said, and fled.

"You," Gladio said to Noctis, and gripped the chain hard. He pulled the man up by the collar and spoke in a low growl. "When I ask you a question, you respond honestly, not out of some weird fucking death wish. As long as you're mine, Noctis, you'll have to learn to live with yourself."

Noctis made a muffled noise against the gag, but Gladio knew enough to recognize the look in his eyes. "If I want your opinion, I'll ask you."

He dragged Noctis to his feet and tugged at the chain, urging him to follow once more.

Re: Fill: 6/? Re: Gladio/Noctis - war prize AU

Date: 2017-03-08 06:11 pm (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
Not OP

I'm just loving this so much! I love how Gladio is firm but not unnecessarily cruel and Noctis, oh man, Noctis is a mess emotionally and physically and I love it because I'm a horrible human being.

And it feels like, (and feel free to shoot this down or completely ignore it) did Noctis, purposely, sabotage his own side of the war when he killed all those Lucis soldiers, if so I'm dying to know why?? If not nvm this is still my favorite fill of this meme, first round included! Can't wait for more!

Re: Fill: 6/? Re: Gladio/Noctis - war prize AU

Date: 2017-03-08 06:46 pm (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
A!A here

Well, there is a secret to what happened, for sure, and it's definitely tied in to what has given Noct that recklessness/self loathing thing he has going on. I have plans. Plans! Ha ha ha I'm a monster.

He DID purposely sabotage his chances later (I'm working on explaining how after the fire, he would just... throw himself into the fray with no regard for his or anyone else's safety) but the truth of what went down when Clarus died is a little twisty.

I'm glad you like this. Honestly, I'm really uncertain about how this story is going over, so that's nice to hear!

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Re: Fill: 6/? Re: Gladio/Noctis - war prize AU

Date: 2017-03-08 06:21 pm (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
Noctis gagged and in chains in my weakness, anon. So damn delicious~

I continue to love how level-headed Gladio is vs Noctis' defiance.

Fill: 7/? Re: Gladio/Noctis - war prize AU

Date: 2017-03-08 10:54 pm (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
Flashback time, then exposition time, then smut time!

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

Gladiolus had long known that the Lucian army was nothing without their magecraft. Even at the end of the war, with the loss of many of their on-the-ground soldiers, their mages called up winds, threw fire, and made the earth slippery and treacherous with ice. The worst of them could summon lightning, but only the royal family could do so with any real strength.

Prince Noctis was the one mage who didn’t stay behind King Regis’ walls of protection. He seemed to take the fire of King Clarus’ death as permission to charge into the press of battle himself, wearing nothing but his mage robes and a sheen of ethereal fire that made both his own troops and enemy combatants fall before him.

At the battle of Leide, he was in top form. When the diminished troops of Lucis were given the order to retreat, he stood in their midst as a rock before the tide, drawing down webs of lightning onto the oncoming ranks of Gladiolus’ army. One of Gladiolus’ Generals fell to a pillar of flame, another to a bolt of lightning out of the blue, and when Gladiolus and Cor flanked the young mage at last, the king felt a chill curl in his chest and saw the flash of violet fire flicker in the prince’s eyes.

“Your king has surrendered,” he said to the prince. “And your magic is nearly gone.” It had to be, for Gladio to still be alive, and the prince knew it. He turned part-ways to the figure of King Regis on the crest of the hill, and saw a white banner cracking in the mid-summer heat.

He looked back to Gladio, bowed deeply, and disappeared in a burst of magic. There was another burst fifty feet up—Gladio’s men leveled their bows—and another, and another, until a bloom of blue fire coalesced into a dark figure standing at King Regis’ side, safe behind the king’s wall of protective light.

“What I’d give to muzzle that one,” Cor said, and Gladiolus laughed.

“You never know, Cor,” he said. “Before this is over, we might get the chance.”



Three days later, King Gladiolus and his men and women at arms met with the enemy king. King Regis stood tall and proud on the baking earth of Leide, showing no discomfort at the heat that must have been constricting in his dark robes. At his left stood a member of his Kingsglaive, and on his right the Kingsglaive captain, Drautos. Further still stood the prince—an odd placement, Gladio thought, but then he wasn’t cognizant of every Lucian rule of order.

One, however, he did know, and it was one he’d been dreading ever since the surrender had been called.

A line of men and women in Lucian black stood just to the left, several feet behind King Regis and his retinue. Gladio kept an eye on them as the useless formalities were made, words of peace spoken through gritted teeth. At last, King Regis gestured towards them with an idle air.

“As per tradition,” he said, in his low, musical voice, “the conquering kingdom has the right to an appeasement prize. The men and women you see here are well trained in the arts, both in pleasure and in entertainment, and are all exemplary servants with the privilege of formal educations.”

“As per tradition,” Gladio said, testing the words with careful deliberation. He knew that the Lucian people would not consider the gift to be akin to slavery, but the thought of it made his stomach turn. A citizen of their country shouldn’t be considered free for another to use or discard as they will. He quested among the faces there, the young men and women behind the King who had been trained for this task, who showed no fear, no trepidation.

Then his gaze rested on the prince.

“Him,” King Gladiolus said, at last. “As per tradition, we will accept Prince Noctis as the appeasement prize for your terms of surrender.”

There was a brief silence. Wind swept through the dust at their feet, and Gladio waited for the inevitable protest, the cries of dismay, the insistence that tradition meant trained and common. That the kingdom needed this monster to survive. It didn’t come.

“Very well,” said King Regis, without a flicker of emotion.

“We’ll have him to you by the end of the week,” said Captain Drautos.

And Prince Noctis, the mad mage of Lucis, the man who slaughtered troops in domes of lightning and shattered their hearts with ice, threw back his head and laughed.

------

“What do we say?”

Noctis looked up at Gladiolus through half-lidded eyes, a slight smirk on his shadowed face. “Please, Your Majesty,” he said. “Will you, in your eternal grace and wisdom take off these fucking cuffs?”

Some ways behind them, Gladio heard a suppressed snort of laughter. He gazed down at the prisoner with a look of polite disdain.

“You know, I don’t think you’re being sincere,” he said, and rested a heavy elbow on his shoulder. Noctis scowled and leaned in to the side of the couch Gladio was reclining on, and one of the members of Gladiolus' inner council laughed.

"Never thought I'd see the mage used as furniture," said Monica. Gladio shrugged. He could almost feel the heat from Noctis' cheeks. "Anyways, back to important matters. It's been three weeks now, and King Regis keeps sending the treaty back with corrections."

"Again? He does know he surrendered?" Gladio caught the closed file from Monica and unhooked the cover. "Furniture," he said, to Noctis. "Does your language have a word for Surrender?"

Noctis raised one eyebrow, and spoke the word in his native tongue.

"Well, he would know," said Cor. Gladio felt the man tense beneath his arm, and shook him slightly, a warning to behave. Noctis raised his cuffed hands a fraction and gave him a deeply sarcastic look.

"It's not really the terms," Cor said. "He keeps changing his heir. It's Nyx Ulric this time. Set in stone--literally. The Crystal accepted him a few days ago."

Noctis was suddenly very still indeed.

"And Captain Drautos says he can dismantle the mages within five weeks, but they need a select number to protect their northern border. Excuse me, did I miss something?" Cor turned to Noctis, who was staring woodenly at the floor. His hands were clenched so tightly that his knuckles were white, and the edges of his mouth were hard, as though he were grinding his teeth together.

"It's nothing," he said, at last. "Nyx Ulric's a good man."

"Better than some," Monica said, pointedly. Noct shrugged the shoulder not currently occupied, and lifted his gaze.

"I wouldn't trust Drautos, though," he said. A short silence greeted this, and Cor and Gladio exchanged glances.

"You'll forgive us if we don't take your word for it," Gladio said. Again, the one-shouldered shrug. "Cor, as you were saying."

-------

"You gonna offer an explanation for that?"

The council had broken up after three hours of dithering over border disputes and grain silos, and Gladio requested a moment of privacy in the receiving room to gather his thoughts. Gathering his thoughts, it turned out, meant leaning back with his hands in Noctis' hair as he thrust into his willing mouth. The man had begged earnestly for this, when there was no one but Gladio to witness it, and not for the first time, the king wondered what pleasure he took out of this particular brand of debasement.

Noctis pulled off of Gladio's cock with a slick, wet sound, and Gladio heard the chain on his cuffs clink as he tried and failed to make one of his typical broad gestures. "Your Majesty," he said. His accent was thicker, slurring the hard consonants and dragging out the vowels. "I can suck your cock, or I can talk politics."

Gladio tried to school the amusement from his face, and dragged Noctis forward again.

"Thank you," Noctis murmured, and the warm heat of his mouth engulfed Gladio again, tongue working along the underside as he bore down. Gladio held back a moan.

"Where does a prince learn this kind of skill?" There was another clank of chains, and Noctis' brows furrowed. He relaxed his throat and took Gladio down to the base, his lips pressed to the soft skin there, and hollowed his cheeks as he leaned back. That was as much of an answer as he was willing to give, clearly.

When Gladio came, he bucked into him hard, an involuntary jerk that had Noctis gagging and struggling to work his throat around the warm come that coated his mouth and tongue. His fingers pressed against Gladio's inner thigh as he pulled back, and Gladio leaned down to press his thumb into Noctis' partly open mouth. Noctis let him push down along his tongue, and moaned faintly.

"Do you want to come?" Gladio asked. He pulled his thumb out and wiped it off on the other man's jaw.

"If you want me to, Your Majesty," he said, looking up at him with that same, vague expression Gladio was starting to recognize as edging the border of desire and blissful thoughtlessness.

"Go ahead, if you can," Gladio said. He leaned down on his elbows, watching Noctis try to jerk himself off awkwardly with both hands linked together. It took him a minute or two, but he was already aching for it, and he fell forward with the strength of his release and pressed his lips to the side of Gladio's thigh.

Gladio knew that he was taking advantage of Noct's dazed state of mind, but he pressed a hand to the man's collar and forced him to look up.

"What was that about Captain Drautos?" he asked. "Nyx Ulric?"

For a minute, Noctis just breathed, slow and open-mouthed, throat rising under Gladio's fingers.

"Nyx Ulric is a good man," Noctis said, in his slurred, thick voice. His eyelids fluttered, and he closed them lazily, tilting his head to rest on Gladio's knee. "And Captain Drautos will ruin him."

Re: Fill: 7/? Re: Gladio/Noctis - war prize AU

Date: 2017-03-08 11:20 pm (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
Ooooohohohoh, the plot thickens! I am so intrigued~~ there are so many layers to this story. <3

(Also, I love the fact that Noctis totally hates the real aspects to being a slave but likes the kinky aspects)

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FILL AO3 LINK Re: Gladio/Noctis - war prize AU

Date: 2017-03-12 12:47 am (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
Hi folks! De-anoning here to give y'all the link to the AO3 version of this fic. You'll notice the beginning has changed--there's a new prologue, and I'll be fleshing out the main story as I go, so it might be slower going than usual as I edit this baby. I hope you like it!

http://archiveofourown.org/works/10230833/chapters/22698725
byakkos_kitten: (Default)
From: [personal profile] byakkos_kitten
The link isn't working.... Would really love to read the edited version of this gif (it was marvelous, by the way, and I desperately want more!!!)
From: (Anonymous)
Author-anon (ohmyfae) took it down for re-writes. Says it'll be back up at a later date.
byakkos_kitten: (Default)
From: [personal profile] byakkos_kitten
Gotcha, thnx. Thanks for the authors id too, now
I know who to subscribe to!
From: (Anonymous)
Hey y'all.

So I had to take my original link down, but it's back up for good this time!

http://archiveofourown.org/works/10545152/

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