ffxv_kinkmeme | Prompt Post Round Six

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Prompt Post Round Six

Welcome to Round Six of the FFXV Kink Meme!

CLOSED for prompts | OPEN for fills

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One prompt per comment. Warnings for common triggers and squicks are encouraged, but not required.
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Prompt, write, draw, comment, and most importantly have fun!

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Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

I'm seriously jonesing for baby Iggy angst.

Imagine a 6 year old Iggy. Could be pregame Ignis who has recently moved to the Citadel. Could be ingame Ignis de-aged and reverted to his 6 year old self.

The adults love little Iggy. He's polite, well-behaved and quiet. He's the perfect kid.

Then one of the adults do something innocent like tap a wooden spoon or ruler or remove their belt. Cue Iggy reacting very badly because he thinks he's about to be beaten again. Maybe he cries and apologizes, or quietly bends over the nearest table or chair and just waits for it to start. The adults finally understand why Ignis tries so hard to be good.

Lots of hugs and comfort for little Ignis.

If this is a de-aged Ignis I'm ok with gen or ships (but please no underage)

The guys worshiping their prince.

Bonus points for:

- Noct topping from the bottom
- they don't have to do it constantly, but the occasional well-timed "Your Highness" would be appreciated
- Gladio or Ignis getting on their knees for him
- for Prompto to be inexperienced but enthusiastic (no porn-star level deep throating please haha)

DNWs:

- for the guys to have sex with each other or to "put on a show" with each other (their attention should solely be on and about Noct for this fic)
- alternate universe (such as modern au, or alternate canon au etc)

This is the best prompt! I hope someone fills this!

Do you want Gen or is eventual Luna/Noct all right?

OP is fine withLuNoct!

are you me, anon, because this is so much my id I can't believe I didn't prompt it myself

No word reaches Insomnia of King Regis' death in Tenebrae or the capture of Prince Noctis prior to Imperial forces invading and securing the city. The Citadel is locked down, and the Niflheim chancellor has the Council brought before him. He sits on the throne and watches them executed, one by one. Ignis stands as tall as he can, witnessing their deaths.

The floor around him is tacky with blood by the time the chancellor has him brought forward. He's been looking bored by the carnage, but now he leans forward, chin on his fist, a fascinated monster. "And what are you?" he asks.

"I'm the advisor to the king of Lucis," he answers. He's not certain – did he need official confirmation to assume that role? – but his voice doesn't waver.

The monster's face lights in a wide, predatory smile. "What a pleasure to meet you," he says. "Ignis, wasn't it? It so happens I'm the royal regent. I do believe we'll be working closely for many years to come." He flicks his fingers, and soldiers pull Ignis out of the line of people waiting to be slaughtered.

He's taken to a cell on an airship, where he's made to strip naked and sit on a bench for several hours, freezing in the wind that whistles through the bars. When the soldiers come for him, he can barely uncurl and stumble upright. For the most part, he's dragged. They bring him to the medbay, where he's strapped down to a bed and drugged. The head doctor pushes fat rings through his nipples, and even in his weakened and groggy state Ignis knows this is wrong. He tries to struggle, and he's laughed at.

They keep him like that for what feel like days, immobilized and with needles stuck in his arms and his legs and between his legs. The puncture sites burn; he's nauseated, and his nipples throb. Metal studs are punched through his tongue, making his mouth taste like blood. He's only let up to eat and use the toilet. One day he goes to piss and finds another ring through the head of his prick. He can't remember anyone doing that to him, but there the evidence is, embedded in swollen painful flesh.

The airship finally takes off with lots of hollow banging and groans from stressed metal, and it lurches in the air currents as if barely managing to stay afloat. Ignis hurts all over, and wishes it would crash into the ocean. He is so scared he wants to die in his weaker moments, which are growing more frequent. He'd been trying to stay strong and survive for Noct's sake, but how can Noct be anything less than horrified to see what's been done to him? Ignis is increasingly certain that he's being brought to Gralea to force Noct's compliance.

He doesn't want to be a pawn in the chancellor's game. He just wants to go home. He wants his uncle alive and not with his head chopped off. He wants the King back and the wall up and everyone in Niflheim dead.

Two days before their arrival, he's taken to the chancellor's quarters. There's a steel desk bolted to the floor in front of the door, and beyond that a similarly-affixed bed, heaped with quilts and pillows. Ignis is so cold, he can't help staring at this luxury covetously. He tries not to show how much he hates being kept naked, but he does. The Niflheim soldiers are twice his size, and wear armor. He wants his glasses back, and not these cold pieces of metal that hurt and make him look like...

He tries not to think about that.

The chancellor barely looks at him as he stands there shivering, only gestures with an impatient flutter of his fingers toward the bed. The guards drag Ignis over and cuff his wrists to the bars over the window, behind the bed. He's grateful there's no one outside, to look in and see him. He's glad that, after the guards leave, the chancellor leaves him there long enough for him to worm his way into the bedding as much as he can. He knows he mustn't feel safe or protected – he's been raised among soldiers and Crownsguard and isn't sheltered, he knows what rape is. He knows the piercings are meant to be sexual, and he knows he's supposed to be terrified that he has no control. He tells himself he's prepared.

He isn't. When the chancellor finally abandons his work to walk over to the bed, Ignis' heart thuds against his ribs so hard he can't hear anything else for a moment. The chancellor pulls the quilts aside, climbing up and over Ignis, forcing his legs apart and then stabs into him with his hard prick. The pain is white-hot and unending, a million times worse than anything he's ever felt, and Ignis cries, twisting in an attempt to force that thing out. Nothing works; it goes on and on. The chancellor pulls his hips up into his lap and presses in so deep that Ignis gags; but then after a minute or so he pulls out and goes back to his desk.

Neither of them spoke a word, Ignis thinks, staring out the window at the clouds and the ocean below. He can feel a growing wetness between his legs, and he wonders if he's bleeding. He doesn't look. After a little while, he gets under the quilt again because he's shaking. The chancellor does it to him two more times before night falls, and then he unchains him and makes him wash with cold water from a bucket while they wait for dinner to be brought up. The wetness turns out to be some blood but mostly a viscous black film that Ignis has to scrub off his bum and his legs with a rough towel. More of it leaks out while he's washing, and the chancellor seems to find his disgust amusing.

Ignis eats his dinner standing, because the chancellor says it would be a pity to ruin the upholstery on his sofa. When he's done, the chancellor tells him to turn the rings in his nipples and his prick. They need to be tugged at first to loosen, and he pulls too hard, so they bleed. The bread in his stomach feels like gravel, as he remembers walking through the blood in the throne room, the soles of his boots sticking, and the chancellor smiling down, the way he is now.

He pushes his chair back from the desk and tells Ignis to come, and kneel, and suck him until he's hard. He talks, while Ignis is humiliating himself, about Noct and Lunafreya and Ravus, and how they are enjoying the hospitality of the Emperor – how he's allowed to use the name Noct, because they're such good friends now. He tells Ignis to use the studs in his tongue to rub his prick, and says that what happened in Tenebrae was a tragedy and a mistake – rebels, he says, with a sad shake of his head, and the perpetrators have been apprehended. He picks up his tablet with one hand to show Ignis a picture of Noct hugging one of Lunafreya's puppies, and digs the other into Ignis' hair, forcing his head forward so he chokes, unable to breathe, Noct's face blurring through tears.

"There, now," the chancellor says, finally relenting and pulling out. "Go get on the bed."

Ignis does, desperate to get as far away as he can, if only long enough to get his breath back. The chancellor makes him lie on his back this time, and turn the rings with his fingers. Ignis' mouth tastes like the prick driving into his bum, and he's so tired he's dizzy from the effort it takes to stay alert and terrified. The chancellor keeps talking to him – he seems to be in a jolly mood, but he was like that when he started killing people, too – telling him what his life is going to be like.

"I hear you're clever," that smooth voice purrs down at Ignis, edged with anger. Ignis' half-mast eyes go wide. "I have a friend who can use clever boys."

He seems to be waiting for an answer, and Ignis has the wild impulsive desire to curse at him, with the bad words he's overheard the soldiers use. But he's more afraid of being alive and hurt than being killed; he's starting to think the chancellor likes him to hurt.

"Yes, sir," Ignis says, voice breaking badly.

The chancellor shakes his head mournfully, as if chastising bad table manners and not in the middle of (he can say it in his own head) fucking him. "Yes, Chancellor Izunia," he corrects. Ignis swallows hard and parrots the words back. "Not too clever for your own good, I see."

The pause is pregnant, and Ignis sees to his burning shame how things are: Chancellor Izunia pulls the strings, and he dances. "No, Chancellor Izunia."

That seems to placate the man, who talks about his friend and his research, and about how he'll allow Ignis to see Noct several times a year. Ignis will help Noct see the good of magitek, and be a good, clever boy –

"Or this is what I'll do to your dear Noctis," Izunia says, and he crushes Ignis in half under him, and his eyes are black and terrible as he makes Ignis scream, and scream, and scream.

Ignis wakes slowly. The sun is in his eyes, but he feels heavy, as if he'd barely slept. He remembers everything, but in a fog. He doesn't want clarity. He wants – the first thing he thinks of is his mother, but he tells himself he's not a child anymore. He's the King's advisor, and he will see Noctis seated on the throne and ruling over Lucis, while all of Niflheim burns.

It's that small, childish flame of defiance that helps him crawl out of bed, to go bathe again at Izunia's command. He's told to wash his hair as well, and today there's soap. It stings when he scrubs over cuts and abrasions and his bum. He even washes his mouth out, scrubbing his teeth with his finger. When he's done, he's presented with his clothes, done up in a neat pile, with his glasses folded on top. He's so grateful that he nearly drops them, and he sounds desperately eager when he says, "Thank you, Chancellor Izunia."

"I'm sure you don't want Noct finding out what a little whore you are," Izunia says cheerfully, patting Ignis on the head. "Hop to, we should be landing shortly."

Ignis has never dressed faster in his life, despite how much pain he's still in – even the soles of his feet are bruised, and he doesn't remember how. Izunia even allows him to use the bathroom (which hurts to a shocking degree), and Ignis makes sure to finger-comb his hair into place before he leaves. His face in the mirror looks the same, he tells himself. There are shadows under his eyes, that's all. Noct won't be suspicious.

When the airship jolts to a thunderous stop, Ignis realizes he'd adjusted the way he walked to adapt to the sway and lurch of flight; he's wobbly as he's marched down the gangway with Izunia's hand at the back of his shoulders, urging him forward. The whole world seems to sway around him, but he tells himself he will not stumble or fall.

They proceed through a wide paved yard, perhaps where all the airships land, to a waiting car. Ignis has to sit in the back, between the chancellor and an official who delivers reports and goes over his schedule for the duration of the ride. They speak over Ignis' head, but he doesn't mind being ignored. He's committing everything to memory: the route they take, the information about the Insomnian occupation, what Izunia will be doing tomorrow afternoon.

They arrive at a tall building made of glass and stone. Windows inside the lobby reveal that it backs onto a beautifully landscaped garden. The fruit trees are in full bloom, and Ignis is so mesmerized by that baffling beauty when there's been so much blood shed that at first he doesn't notice the children playing on the lawn.

But once he sees Noctis, he sees nothing else.

Izunia makes an irritated sound and changes course from the elevator banks to a side passage; the hair at the back of Ignis' neck rises. He thinks the chancellor is the kind of person who reacts very badly when things do not go precisely as he intended. Certainly the guards standing watch at the doors to the garden look terrified as Izunia sweeps toward them, but he says nothing to them as they quickly pull the doors open to let him pass.

"Ignis!" Noctis cries, spotting him, and shoves the rims of his wheelchair impatiently, as if that will make it go faster on grass.

Ignis doesn't think; he runs. In his head he's been telling himself Noct is the king and he's his advisor, and they have to act with the dignity of their positions. But he forgets that, forgets to be afraid of Izunia – he throws his arms around Noct's small thin shoulders and holds him, saying his name over and over. It's all he wanted, and he savors every moment.

But inevitably reality creeps back. He lets go of Noct reluctantly. Izunia is speaking with Lunafreya while her brother Ravus stands apart. He's wearing a military-styled uniform, and his hair is close-cropped; he looks angry at everything, and Ignis decides it's prudent to be wary of him.

But when, at Izunia's prompting, Ignis stumbles through his performance, telling Noct he's been offered the wonderful opportunity to go and study magitek, and that they'll see each other on the holidays, he sees Ravus cock his head and scrutinize him, eyes narrowed in suspicion. Noct is devastated, clinging to Ignis' hands and begging him to stay, and Ignis can hardly bear to refuse him. When the tears have subsided into sullen betrayed silence and Ignis feels as if he's shattered something precious, he happens to glance up and meet Ravus' gaze. For a fleeting moment, he sees sympathy; Ravus very pointedly looks to Luna, then back to Ignis, and raises one eyebrow, before kneeling to play with one of the dogs.

Oh, Ignis thinks, head suddenly, painfully clear. And then, Of course. He hates to think of Ravus being hurt the way Izunia hurt him, but here is a mistake Izunia has made. Here is an exploitable opportunity. Ignis has an ally, here in the heart of enemy territory.

Let Izunia do what he will, Ignis will endure, for as many years as it takes.

But he will see the true King seated on the Lucian throne.

OP: Hahahah! YES... he's def praising the sun alright...

So, during the part in episode Prompto where he tried to burn the barcode off, I was kind of amazed that doing something like that had never occurred to him before.

But what if it had?

I'm looking for a canon divergence thing. Prompto attempts to cut or burn the barcode off when he's 14, and succeeds. But the problem is, someone notices what he did and assumed that he was attempting suicide. So he winds up with this rep as "that kid that tried to kill himself" at school. As a result he doesn't end up approaching Noct (but please have them and up friends anyway).

What I do not want is for Prompto to actually be depressed or suicidal. He might be a little closed off now, because the kids at school talk about him behind his back, but it's more.... hm, canon Prompto, if people were making bad assumptions about him.

On the way to Steyliff, after Gladio left, the guys stay at a haven for the night once it gets dark. It's nearly pitch black aside from the campfire, and after Prompto goes into the tent saying that he was ready to catch some shut-eye, Ignis and Noctis take advantage of the alone time and pull out a blanket to have sex under the stars. Prompto ends up leaving the tent again (for whatever reason) and catches them in the act. He tells himself he should stop watching but...he can't. He stays right there, against his better judgement, and keeps watching. On Iggy and Noct's end, they noticed him the moment he left the tent but...they find they like being watched.

Please no Prompto jerking off to them or having a one-sided affection towards either/both of them. He just wants to keep watching.

I'm intrigued

+100

okay, this could be fun

+1000

+1000

ohhhhh dark Ignis whump I'm here for this!! I liked the detail about Ardyn's daemonic goo lol. And the end where Ignis and Ravus might bond over shared burdens and trauma.

Ignis is posh, polite, and seems like an easy target. A few of the more douchey Crownsguard decide to haze him. It starts off tame (think pranks) but gradually gets worse and worse. Ignis doesn't want to cause trouble or for people to think he's weak so he doesn't complain or even actively covers for them.

Kinks are humiliation, noncon, public nudity, etc. but it's up to the filler how far it goes.
I don't like scat, watersports, permanent mutilation, and I would prefer Ignis was cis and that the attackers are male.

Noct sees Gladio struggling to reach a spot on his shoulder blades while he's lotioning his tattoo at camp and offers to help.

UST or sexy times welcome, but optional.

+10000000

Yes please!

Little Iggy has tummy bug and is stuck in bed so Regis decides to visit and check up on him and Iggy ends up barfing on the King which little kid Iggy is convinced must be treason so he starts wailing and sobbing and puking even more while Regis tries tries to calm him down, get them both cleaned up and try not to sympathy puke.

Oh dear. Now I lowkey wanna write Ardyn being too consumed with the momming aspect to remember the spite and rage. Like, sure, prophecy, yadda-yadda-yadda, but seriously just LOOK how adorable this little floof-headed wobbly smol human is, and his eyes are so huge and starry when he wants up for cuddles! And the mini-Oracle likes to sleep on his chest so at this point it's probably useless to try and make her afraid of him when she's older. The MT-child is too damn trusting for his own good; better just keep him close and snuggle him a lot so he stays safe until fated time and whatnot. And he never fails to smile watching the little Prince and Shield dueling with stick 'swords'. They're so tiny, but so ferocious! Until someone actually lands a blow and comes running to him in tears for the cuts to be kissed and magicked away.

Etcetra.

And then suddenly he looks up and they're grown and he loves them all too much to betray them.

omfg +100000000 im here for this

When Ardyn awakes the next morning, he is surprised to find Noctis in his bed, albeit awkwardly curled on the other side of the mattress. He sits up, pulling away from his husband’s sleeping form. He doesn’t wish to distress Noctis by getting too close to him.

Gladio is slumped in a chair beside the bed with his giant sword resting between his legs. He looks asleep, but when Ardyn sits up, he lifts his head and does a complete check of the room before his eyes settle on Ardyn.

“You sure you should be up?” he asks.

Ardyn stretches experimentally and puts his feet on the floor. His brain feels less like it might spill out of him than it did last night, and he managed to heal his rib entirely. His hip is screaming, but that’s familiar. “I’m well enough,” he says.

Gladio snorts. “Yeah, okay,” he says. “Prompto’s in the front room. Iggy’s making breakfast.”

“Breakfast would be pleasant,” Ardyn admits. “Perhaps coffee. Is there any way to get coffee?”

Gladio tilts his head. “Iggy keeps a stash of Ebony in Noct’s fridge. Don’t take the last one,” he warns. Then he grimaces, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Mind getting me one too?”

Ardyn does not know what to make of being asked for favors by a servant, but he nods, and stands. Noct, he thinks, as he shuffles slowly towards the front room. Prompto called Ardyn’s husband by that nickname, too. But Prompto is Noctis’s lover. Up until very recently, Ardyn had assumed Gladio was far, far below that status.

Prompto is asleep on Noctis’s couch. Ardyn moves as silently as he can to avoid waking him. He retrieves the promised Ebony from the fridge, pops the can, and drinks half of it in one gulp; the relief he feels is most likely psychosomatic, but he won’t begrudge it that.

At some point last night he had stopped expecting to survive, truth be told, and being here now is leaving him at loose ends.

His reputation, of course, he’s dragged most thoroughly into the dirt. He’s more vulnerable now than he ever has been; before this, he had hoped that the Lucians would be as opposed to destroying the treaty as he was, but given the behavior he invented for himself on that tape - and the behavior he admitted to, in crudest fashion, on that tape - he’s sure that, if he died, Niflheim would only shrug its shoulders and thank the Astrals that the Lucians hadn’t marched to war on the strength of his insult to their Prince.

He manages to get back into the bedroom with the Shield’s coffee before his hip fails him and he has to lean on the wall. Noctis isn’t awake yet, and Gladio is nodding off beside him, but once again his head snaps up when he sees Ardyn’s movement.

“You can come back to bed. Noct won’t care, he’s dead to the world.” The Shield flicks Noctis’s ear in demonstration. Noctis grumbles in his sleep, but doesn’t waken. A fond, tender smile crosses Gladio’s face, so out of place under the scars that Ardyn has to mask his surprise. The gesture speaks of long familiarity with Noctis’s habits and enough ease between them to risk his irritation; the expression is enough to make the gil drop.

Perhaps that Glaive was not so far off the mark in listing Noctis’s indiscretions. Ardyn wonders if he was wrong to scoff at the idea of Scientia, too.

Gladio stands up and walks directly toward Ardyn. Ardyn thinks for a moment that the Shield has guessed his thoughts and plans to silence him, but the man only plucks the can of coffee from his fingers.

“Can you make it back over to the bed?” he asks.

Ardyn pushes himself to standing, though he has to keep his weight on his good leg. “Of course,” he says.

The Shield sighs, and offers Ardyn his arm. “I know your leg doesn’t work right. Don’t push yourself,” Gladio says. “Time and a place for that.”

Ardyn takes the offered support, and the Shield guides him across the room, to sit again on the opposite side of Noctis’s bed. Ardyn sinks gratefully onto the mattress and stretches his bad leg out in front of him.

“How did you know?” he asks. He’d thought he’d successfully hidden that weakness, and to find that he’s been discovered is demoralizing.

“You’re good at compensating, but your gait is off,” Gladio informs him, as he drops himself back in the chair next to Noctis. “Noct has the same kind of problem.”

“Noctis has an injury like this?” Ardyn would never have guessed. Perhaps he has not been paying close enough attention to his husband. Or, perhaps, Noctis has been masking his own weaknesses in the same way Ardyn has.

“Yeah. Sometimes his back acts up.” Gladio considers Ardyn over his can of Ebony, and then adds, “He’s pretty dumb about ignoring it, too.”

“The injury cannot be healed,” Ardyn says, trying to subtly massage some of the shooting pains out of the side of his thigh. “Ignoring it is the best option I have.”

The Shield huffs. “You’re coming to physical therapy next time Noct does.”

To his chagrin, Ardyn has no response for that. It seems far too unlikely of a thing for the Shield to be concerned about his well-being; but he can find no other explanation that convinces him.

Gladio finishes his coffee and sets it on Noctis’s nightstand, and stretches his shoulders. “That’s more like it. I might make it until the Marshal gets here.”

“Did you sleep at all?” Ardyn asks.

Gladio shrugs. “Little bit. Wasn’t going to leave until we were sure it was safe.”

Ardyn nods. Of course the Shield couldn’t leave Noctis. And Noctis, Ardyn admits, did seem sincere when he’d insisted that Ardyn stay with him, where it was safe. Ardyn does not believe that his husband signed that execution order, but he is having difficulty with the concept that Noctis would be concerned if he were killed.

And yet, Noctis protected him. He put his own safety, and the safety of his lovers, aside for Ardyn’s sake. Even if his motives were political, rather than personal, it speaks to his desire for peace; and if they are personal, Ardyn hardly dares speculate on what it might mean.

Ardyn is gazing down at his sleeping husband, and Gladio is beginning to shift and clear his throat uncomfortably, when there is a brisk knock at the door and Scientia enters.

“Gladio? Are they awake yet?” he asks.

“Noct’s out,” Gladio says. “But Ardyn’s up.”

“Good morning,” Ardyn says.

Scientia nods. “I’ve brought breakfast, and a change of clothes. Marshal Leonis will be arriving at eleven.”

He wheels a small covered cart into the room and stops it when it taps against the edge of the bed. Hungry as he is, Ardyn is not certain he can survive an encounter with Lucian breakfast in his weakened state. But when Scientia pulls the cover off, he finds that the cart contains a large basket of toast, five plates of omelettes that smell more appetizing than anything he’s encountered so far, and wonder of wonders, hot coffee.

“I hope breakfast is to your liking,” Scientia says. “I apologize for the informal presentation, but I didn’t think any of us were interested in standing on ceremony this morning.”

“You cooked?” Gladio asks, showing a surprising amount of interest. He gets up to pull one of the chairs from over by Noctis’s desk to the foot of the bed, so Scientia can sit down.

“I did. Noct mentioned something about omelettes last night, and I thought it would be nice.” Scientia’s fingers graze the edge of three plates until he finds the one he’s looking for, and hands it to Gladio. “He even mentioned that mushrooms might be welcome.”

“Did he get hit in the head?”

“Not for him. He’s not that far gone.” This time Scientia picks up the first plate that he touches, and holds it out in Ardyn’s direction. “It seems mushrooms are one of his husband’s favorites.”

Ardyn takes the plate in both hands and gives his thanks automatically. He vaguely recalls mentioning enjoying mushrooms in a terrible attempt at dinner conversation two weeks ago, and he wonders that Noctis remembered it.

The smell of breakfast does what their activity could not, and Noctis shifts and pulls himself to sitting, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. “Morning,” he mumbles. His hair is sticking up at the back of his head even more wildly than usual; he wears an oversized grey shirt that slips down to reveal part of his collarbone. He seems relaxed, even comfortable, as looks around at all three of them sleepily. Ardyn allows himself a single glance, and then averts his eyes, focusing on the food.

It is excellent food, far and away the single best meal he’s yet eaten in Insomnia. Scientia passes Noctis an omelette with no suspicious green or mushroom-shaped pieces, which Noctis accepts and shovels it down.

“Prompto up yet?” Gladio asks.

“He’s gone to check on something,” Scientia says. “He should be back shortly.”

Noctis revives a little after he’s drunk a cup of coffee, though he grimaces at the taste. Ardyn is occupied both in his continued mental processing of the previous night, and in trying not to stare at his husband this close to Gladio.

“How did you know where I was?” he asks, eventually.

“Gladio and Ignis,” Noctis says. “Gladio found your Guard detail off duty, and Iggy caught the video.”

Ardyn’s stomach twists at the mention of the video. “So they were broadcasting that, then.”

“Yes. They used a Niflheim livestreaming service that I’ve been keeping track of,” Scientia tells him. “It wasn’t hard to determine the situation once I heard your voice.”

“Did you all watch the video?” Ardyn asks. “Did you hear…”

“Yeah,” Noctis says. Ardyn shoots him a sharp look, but Noctis is staring studiously at the empty plate on his knees, his fingers curling in the sheets next to him.

Ardyn dares to ask, “All of it?”

“They cut the video before much got out,” the advisor says. Ardyn is relieved almost to dizziness, but then Scientia continues, “However, we found the tape in the camera last night.”

Ardyn nods, slowly. So Noctis heard his vicious lies, and then, his vicious truth.

“We know half what you said was a lie,” Gladio says. “Thought it was pretty weird that you brought up the other half.”

Scientia says, “Yes, we would like to hear an explanation for that.”

Ardyn suspects that the advisor knows already. It’s Noctis who needs to hear Ardyn say it. He marshals his thoughts. “If I were killed, blameless, Niflheim would have no choice but to declare the treaty void. I wished to make myself indefensible,” Ardyn says. “I simply admitted to the most disgraceful, disrespectful actions I could think of, the deepest insults to Lucis and her Prince… whether they were true or not.”

It is not an apology, not really, but Noctis lets out a long breath and some of the tension in the room drains away.

*****

Prompto doesn’t return until nearly ten-thirty, after Ardyn has showered and dressed in the clothes Scientia brought him, and their small company has gathered in Noctis’s front room, facing each other on the couches. By some miracle Noctis has chosen to sit next to Ardyn. Scientia and the Shield make quiet conversation, mostly about the Marshal Leonis who will be conducting the investigation into the Kingsglaive, but Ardyn’s attention is occupied by his husband, who is close enough that if there were any desire on his part, they could take hands.

Ardyn should not be having these thoughts in front of at least one, possibly two, of Noctis’s lovers, but he thinks that his imaginings are chaste enough he can be forgiven. They’ve already very nearly forgiven him worse.

There’s a loud thump at the door, and Prompto enters without waiting for a response. All three of them are very comfortable moving into and around Noctis’s space, Ardyn thinks. To his shame, he does not know Noctis well enough to tell if he minds it or not, but surely he would have put a stop to it if he did.

“Hey, guys! Whoa, you got Noct out of bed this early?”

Noctis sits up and smiles. “Hey, Prom,” he says.

Prompto’s eyes flick between Noctis and Ardyn, and he nods slightly, a determined look on his face. Then he walks directly to Noctis, leans down with one hand on his shoulder, and kisses him full on the mouth.

Noctis puts his hand on Prompto’s wrist as if to pull him away, but he doesn’t stop the kiss. Ardyn watches, with rapidly growing inability to maintain a straight face, as Prompto lays claim to Noctis’s mouth. He thinks, perhaps, he should be angry, but he cannot feel anything other than resigned sadness.

A cough from the advisor makes Prompto pull away. Ardyn looks across to the other pair. The Shield has his hand over his eyes, and even Scientia looks politely embarrassed. Perhaps he was able to guess what was happening from the soft noises, perhaps Gladio told him; Ardyn would not have noticed had they communicated with battlefield signal flags.

“Prompto,” Ardyn begins, before he can suffer anyone trying to discuss Prompto’s actions.

Prompto watches Ardyn as though Ardyn is about to shout at him, or perhaps hit him. He looks exactly like Besithia, decades ago, with that scowl on his face.

“I owe you an apology,” Ardyn says.

That surprises him, makes those sky-blue eyes go wide. “Didn’t think you were the kind of guy to apologize to machines.”

“I have been told I am more than usually solicitous of my MTs,” Ardyn says. “But I owe you an apology because you are not a machine, and I treated you like one.” Noctis looks curiously from Prompto to Ardyn; his cheeks are still flushed.

Prompto folds his arms and tilts his chin down. “Oh yeah?” he says.

“Mr. Scientia relieved me of some misconceptions,” Ardyn admits. Across from him, the Shield shifts in his seat, leaning forward as if to be able to stand quickly. Ardyn hurries to continue. “I am exceedingly sorry for the way I acted towards you, and the uncharitable thoughts I held towards you and Noctis, and I ask for your forgiveness if it is within my rights to do so.” The words are formal and fluid on his tongue. He would not make such a plea if it were not for the benefit of all four of the members of his audience.

Prompto licks his lips. “Your uncharitable thoughts were right, dude,” he says. “I’m not really sure how to make that more obvious.”

“I have no right to object to your relationship,” Ardyn replies. “It is I who am the interloper here. I rushed to judgement when I was under the misapprehension that you were less than human.”

Ardyn prays that Prompto will stop staring at him and say something soon, because he can see dawning comprehension on Noctis’s face, and he fears that if Noctis speaks before Prompto does he will have a hard time controlling what happens next.

Prompto does speak first, but rather than accept or reject Ardyn’s apology, he says, “I went and got your MTs plugged in again. The new converters are gonna let them charge up faster. They won’t be running out of power every day anymore.”

While Ardyn is trying to figure out what to do with that, Prompto gestures for Noctis to move over, and he sits down at Noctis’s other side, on his left. Ardyn notes with slight envy the way Noctis’s hand settles around his back.

“So, when’s Cor headed up?” Prompto asks, and they turn back to talk of the investigation.

*****

Marshal Cor Leonis, who Ardyn has heard tales of as Cor the Immortal even from the other end of Niflheim, turns out not to be seven feet tall with eyes of fire (not that Ardyn had truly expected him to be); what he is, however, is the extremely competent, quietly confident commander of the Crownsguard. Ardyn finds this almost worse.

He gives nearly the same statement to Leonis that he gave to Noctis, earlier, alone in Noctis’s front room while Noctis and his retainers wait in the bedroom. Then he waits with them as one by one they give their statements as well.

When they’re through, and allowed to speak to each other again, Leonis assures them that the traitors will be brought to justice. Ardyn is gratified to hear the word traitors used against the men who tried to kill him. He truly is not certain they will be seen as such until Leonis says it and Noctis nods his agreement.

I'm OP and STOP THAT IS SO CUTE!! these dogs want their owners to be together and I'M HERE FOR IT!!!

Ignis and Noctis start a tentative new relationship. They're slightly worried about, but ready for, potentially big changes in their dynamic.

There are no big changes. Apart from the sex nothing actually changes at all. Turns out they'd already been behaving as boyfriends for years now.

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Page 36 of 208

Prompt Post Round Six

Gen -Kid Ignis was abused

The guys/Noctis - ot4 orgy, bodyworship

Re: Wish granting Demon!Noctis seduces Ignis AU

Re: Luna + Noctis, Twelve Years of Notes

Re: Luna + Noctis, Twelve Years of Notes

Re: The guys/Noctis - ot4 orgy, bodyworship

FILL Any, Ardyn is Noctis' regent "Pawn" [tw: underage, noncon] 1/3

Re: FILL Any, Ardyn is Noctis' regent "Pawn" [tw: underage, noncon] 2/3

Re: FILL Any, Ardyn is Noctis' regent "Pawn" [tw: underage, noncon] 3/3

Re: Ardyn/Solaire, First Meetings

au, Prompto tries to cut the barcode

Ignoct + Prompto, exhibitionism + voyeurism kink

Re: Gen -Kid Ignis was abused

Re: Gen or Noctis/Any, Half-Astral Noctis Astral form

Re: Ignoct + Prompto, exhibitionism + voyeurism kink

Re: FILL Any, Ardyn is Noctis' regent "Pawn" [tw: underage, noncon] 3/3

Crownsguard/Ignis Hazing

Noct/Gladio - Tattoo Maintenance

Re: Crownsguard/Ignis Hazing

Smol!Ignis + Dad!Regis, Smol Iggy barfs on the King

Re: Stage Mom!Ardyn

Re: Promptis, finding the real prompto

FILL: 7/9 Ardnoct arranged marriage AU, misunderstandings

Re: Gladio/Ignis: Dog Park AU

Ignoct – new relationship, nothing changes