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!

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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.

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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.


From: (Anonymous)
I kind of recognize this idea from a fic I already wrote for a different prompt so it's getting a late fill

let me tell you about Future AU King Noctis trying to protect his Shield

---

Gladio usually looks polished, professional and intimidating in his full formal uniform. Dark hair tied back and robes buttoned across his chest, his scars stand out against his skin. Nobody can say he's ugly for them, but they serve as a reminder to those who deal with him that he's seen combat. That he's a soldier first, and a noble second.

Not today.

Today, sitting ramrod-straight in the chair to Noctis' right, he looks stunned, as well as he hides it — stunned and cornered and mortified, color high in his cheeks. His mouth is closed tightly, and he looks anywhere but Noctis. He settles on staring fixedly at Ignis, who is sitting on Noctis' other side. Not that Ignis can see it.

Noctis looks at the dignitaries across the table. His hands are shaking with rage.

Ignis speaks before Noctis can order these people out of his city. "The Crown thanks you for your offer. Allow us to confer."

They all stand. The visiting dignitaries file out first, as per protocol. Noctis can't even see them through his haze of anger. He barely waits until the doors are closed behind them.

He turns to look at Gladio, who meets his glare. Then he storms out of the side door towards his private office.

"Noct. Noct!" Noctis doesn't turn around.

Usually, Noctis waits for Ignis to fall in beside him. It's been some years since the advisor had lost his sight, and he still moves a bit slower than he once did. Today, Noctis doesn't have to wait. Ignis is barely a step behind him. Gladio, on the other hand, has to scramble to catch up with the two of them.

"Noct, wait." Gladio's fingers skim the top of his shoulder. Noctis shrugs him off, not even looking back.

"I'm not going back in there," Noctis snarls. "Tell them they can leave."

"Damn it — " Gladio finally overtakes him with his longer stride and spins him around. They stand facing each other in front of the door to Noctis' office. He reaches out to stop Ignis as well, hand light on his elbow. "Will someone just tell me what the hells is going on?" he demands.

Noctis jerks his head back towards the audience chamber. "You heard them. No way."

"I heard them loud and clear, but I'm asking you for an explanation."

"No explanation. The negotiation's over."

"I would tend to agree," Ignis cuts in, unusually icy. Noctis is grateful that Ignis isn't going to fight him on this one. Nor should he.

Gladio throws out his arm. "You called me in today so I could watch you get pissed off on my behalf?" He's incredulous. "There's more going on here. You two obviously know more about this than I do, so fill me in."

Noctis grinds his teeth. Ignis blinks, unseeing.

Gladio takes a step back. "Or don't you think I deserve to know?"

Ignis turns slightly, as if waiting for Noctis to say something. Noctis's feet are still against the marble floor, his head raised, a silent battle of wills.

There's nobody else in this part of the palace. The closest guards are posted at the end of the hall, and the foreign dignitaries will be waiting in a conference room on the other side of the audience chambers. They're on Noctis' territory, and if Noctis wants to keep them waiting indefinitely, he can. Only courtesy might stop him, and these people don't deserve courtesy.

"They want it to be part of the deal," Ignis says at last. He pauses, then continues when Noctis doesn't stop him. "An exchange of favors on the parts of both kingdoms. It represents confidence in each other's word."

"I studied the same history books you did," Gladio says. "I know the custom. I didn't think it was something we still did."

"It's not. This is irregular," Ignis says, and Noctis finds his voice.

"He means they know they have us cornered and that piece of shit's just not gonna let this go," Noctis says venomously.

He strides into his office curtly. He stands aside for Gladio and Ignis, then shuts the door behind them. He would have slammed it if it wasn't too heavy to close with force.

Gladio comes to a stop on the carpet between the door and the desk. He looks between Noctis and Ignis. "What do you mean, let it go?"

Noctis scowls out the window, but the darkness that always seems to shroud the world now obscures most of the landscape from view. He can see Ignis and Gladio reflected in the glass.

"How many times? You've met with him before. How many times have you said no?"

Noctis doesn't have the heart to meet Gladio's gaze.

"A few," Ignis says.

"Too many," Noctis says.

Gladio looks like he's taken a blow to the chest. "Who else has the bastard asked for?"

Noctis' mouth is dry and his tongue numb. "Nobody," he says. "Just you."

Gladio takes a step back. He runs a shaky hand through his hair, and looks around for a chair.

Ignis slides one out from against the wall, and Gladio sinks down in it across from him. Noctis can't bring himself to sit. He leans against the heavy wooden desk, gripping its edge.

"Huh." Gladio lets out a breath, attempting a weak grin. "Perks of being bluer blood, huh? Should I be flattered?"

He thinks it's because of his heritage. He doesn't know. Of course he doesn't. Noctis wouldn't have told him if he'd had a choice. "You shouldn't be anything about them," Noctis says. "Don't pay attention to them. Don't even listen to them. It doesn't matter."

"Yeah, I think it matters," Gladio interjects. "Sure seems to matter to them, and they wouldn't be here if they didn't matter to us."

"We invited them here because we didn't think he'd do this as the representative of a country at war," Noctis says in disgust. "Glad to see that whatever the circumstances, some people stay dirt stains."

"I could've told you that much," Gladio scoffs. His hand is on his knee, fingers too still against the fabric. "So is that why you've kept me out of this until now? You didn't think I could handle it?"

It's not that. If he's honest about it, Noctis wasn't sure before today that he could've handled it if Gladio was there.

"I know what they want you for," Noctis says.

They hadn't had to deal directly with the country for years, not since right after the fall of Insomnia. But Noctis had met this dignitary before on multiple occasions, before Noctis was King, when the other man was just an up-and-coming diplomat he had to play nice with at social functions.

It'd been like this since they were teens. The man was charming and smart, and he liked to needle Noctis when they were out drinking.

How's that Shield of yours? he'd laugh. Still not lending him out? Noctis would force a smile. I just mean I'd like to try him out.

Not happening, Noctis would say.

The man would chuckle. I keep asking.

And I keep saying no, Noctis would say lightly.

You have your pick of my best retainers in exchange, the man had said. As if all of them combined could be worth it.

Not today. Anything else I can help you with?

The man would shake his head. One day, he'd say. Do you know what I'd do? Noctis would think of Gladio standing guard outside, clench his hand under the table, and order another drink.

It's been years, and now that the war is finally turning, now that the trade talks are resuming for the first time since Noctis had become King, the man had looked Noctis right in the eye, smiled, and suggested a bargain.

A week. Not an hour, not a night, an entire fucking week.

Noctis' voice is rough, bitter. "I know what he wants you for."

Gladio looks taken aback. Noctis glances up long enough to see the expression on his face change from surprise to a flash of apprehension. He doesn't ask.

Noctis resists the urge to reach out.

Noctis doesn't often apologize. He'd been born stubborn and proud, and his station in life hadn't exactly discouraged him. But Gladio deserves to hear it this time. He takes a breath, looks away.

"I'm sorr — "

"What's he offering?"

Noctis' head snaps up. Gladio is looking at him, pale.

"Nothing," Noctis says vehemently.

Ignis tilts his head. "Weapons. Blades. For the Glaives."

Noctis pushes himself up. "He could be offering his entire damn army, I'm not letting him get his hands on you," he exclaims. He feels a familiar empty panic in his chest as Gladio looks from Ignis back to him.

Gladio narrows his eyes.

"You were going to be married for a treaty," Gladio says.

Noctis freezes.

"A marriage lasts a lifetime."

Noctis is speechless. How can he even — how dare he — Luna — his father — it'd been so long — this is nothing like —

Noctis can't think.

"This is just a week," Gladio says.

"This is different," Noctis snaps. He's the King. There are things he can't —

"We do what we have to do to protect the Kingdom," Gladio argues. "Isn't that what we chose? Some of us have given up a hell of a lot more than a week of our lives."

"Oh, no," Noctis begins. "You don't get — "

"Do we need 'em?"

"No."

"You said he had us cornered."

"We'll find something else."

"What?"

"Anything."

"Noct. Look me in the eye."

Full of dread, Noctis looks at Gladio.

Without the Crystal, the King's magic is next to useless without blades. Regis had raised the Glaive for exactly that reason. For a long time it hadn't mattered, but now, running low on supplies when they're so close to reclaiming their territory, when the Empire's finally starting to take a step back...

Noctis would sooner give up the throne than throw one of his own to those people. Any of his own, let alone Gladio.

But Gladio, who'd only ever been able to read his mind so far as to be able to tell that Noctis' heart was stopping him from doing something he needed to do, sees him hesitate. And that's all he needs.

"Tell them I'll go," Gladio says.

"Gladio — " Ignis speaks.

"It's my choice, Iggy," Gladio says with force. "Don't I get to choose?"

Ignis shuts his mouth.

Gladio squares his shoulders. He looks at Noctis, and Noctis hates him for looking so resigned and determined and awful. "He can do whatever he wants. Just a week. But I ain't gonna be a hostage, and they'd better deliver."

Noctis is in disbelief. "You can't think I'd let them have you for a second."

"I don't serve the King so that he can make selfish decisions," Gladio retorts.

"Screw that, Gladio, I need you here!"

"You want to tell them no, I'll walk out of here and go with them for free."

Noctis leaps up and seizes Gladio by the collar. He bares his teeth. "I could have you arrested for saying that," he hisses.

Gladio is calm. "Good luck winning the war without weapons or a Shield, then," he says.

They stand like that for a long time. Noctis thinks faintly that perhaps they could stand like this forever, Noctis' fingers tight in the front of Gladio's robes. Nobody would separate them, nobody could take Gladio away, trade him like some piece of treasure for swords. Somebody else could deal with the war.

Noctis lets go.

Gladio steps back.

"I'll trust you to work out the details, Iggy," Gladio says. "This better be worth it."

"They will be held accountable," Ignis says. His voice is quiet. "We'll call it off if anything happens. There will be consequences."

Gladio lets out a breath. He tugs his robes back into place, fixing his cuffs.

Noctis remembers the first time he'd seen Gladio in the robes. Black and gold and silver fastened at the throat, to match Noctis' raiment. Clarus Amicitia hadn't worn the garb when he was Gladio's age, just as Regis hadn't worn the king's robes at Noctis' age. Noctis recalls the robes looking ceremonial on their fathers.

Gladio had never liked to wear stiff clothing, and even his most formal Guard uniform had a practical cut. This was different. The collar looked constricting, trim and chains almost delicate.

Not all that easy to move in, Gladio had said at the fitting.

The heavier the clothes, the heavier the duties, Noctis had said. That's what my dad always told me.

Noctis can't say anything through the lump in his throat. Not for the first time, the ring burns on his finger.

Finally, Gladio swallows. "Don't tell Prompto," he says, voice hoarse. "After all that shit with the Empire, I don't want the kid to worry."

And Noctis, full of fury, reaches up on impulse. One hand on either side of Gladio's face, he pulls Gladio close. Gladio lets him touch his own forehead to his.

"If they hurt you, I will dismantle them," Noctis says, low. "You tell them that. You tell them I won't spare a house."

Noctis feels Gladio nod, shaken.

Noctis grips Gladio's arm for a moment, and then they both straighten up.

"Well," Gladio says. "Let's get back in there."

Ignis steps to Gladio's other side. He lays a hand briefly on Gladio's shoulder. Gladio lets him. Noctis isn't sure which of them is reassuring which.

Noctis forces himself to look away. He steels himself and opens the door.

They'll win the war. It'll be worth it. It will have to be.


From: (Anonymous)
Oh man. This was amazing! You can just FEEL the tension! And they gave full weight and consideration to their options. I love it. What a horrible situation!

(Also, where is this other fic with a similar idea you speak of? Because I would like to read it)
From: (Anonymous)
authoranon: lmao thanks, I aim to please with misery!

(I did a fill a while back containing a scene where Noct has to wine and dine some visitors during trade negotiations, and one asshat assumes Noct can let him have Gladio for the night. It makes Noct uncomfortable because technically the asshat is right. Noct turns him down, hoping that'll be the end of it, and never tells Gladio about it. It's here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/10296578)
From: (Anonymous)
Update: AO3 crosspost at http://archiveofourown.org/works/10760610

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