Prompt Post Round Six

[ffxv_kinkmod]

 

 

Welcome to Round Six of the FFXV Kink Meme!

CLOSED for prompts | OPEN for fills

Please have a look at the extended rules here.

The important rules in short:

• Post anonymously.
• Negative comments on other people's prompts (kink-shaming, pairing-bashing etc.) and personal attacks of any kind will not be tolerated.
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• One prompt per comment. Warnings for common triggers and squicks are encouraged, but not required.
• Prompts should follow the format: Character/character, prompt.
• Keep prompts to a reasonable length; prompts should not be detailed story outlines.
• Fills should have the word "Fill:" at the start of the subject line.
• Otherwise please avoid changing the subject line.
• No reposting of prompts from previous rounds, please.
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Please direct any questions or report any problems to the Ask a mod post.

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

(You can also check out our Pinboard for Filled or Unfilled prompts)

If you'd like to advertise a fill, head on over to the fills post! This is, of course, entirely optional. 

Comments

Fill 1/? Re: Ignis/Noctis Onesided Gladio/Ignis "But I love him"

[(Anonymous)]

Gladio isn’t blind, and he definitely isn’t dumb. He knows how the world works, and he knows what is expected of him. He understands the duty of the blood that runs in his veins and the tattoo across his shoulders. He is all but chattel, and could be replaced easily enough. There is another Amicitia, one that would no doubt be willing to die for her King, and Gladio knows that if he ran... the King would never be without his Shield.

King.

Gladio pushes his fork straight through the styrofoam cup of noodles, the juice leaking into the dirt below. The constant drip is a melody to him, something that was far more rewarding than the sounds from the tent.

Ignis may not have known he had returned, but Noctis—Noctis had to know. After all, he was putting on a show. Dig the knife in a little deeper, a little more jagged.

Was it a show? Gladio stares at the zipped-up entrance of the tent, the pale moon sinking into the horizon just behind it. The sun would begin its slow ascension soon enough, and Prompto must have already left for his run—his boots are gone and the sun peeked through just enough to keep the daemons at bay. Certainly enough for Prompto to feel safe. Enough for Ignis and Noctis to take a moment to indulge.

They think they're alone, maybe. It's been almost a week since Gladio left, so it makes sense. Sick, twisting sense in his stomach, but sense nonetheless. Gladio knows this voice in his head, and knows that he should ignore it. It has a bad habit of whispering the worst of Gladio into his ear, and he knows better than to listen.

The Genji sword next to him, the scar across his brow, the understanding of the words Cor had spoken reverberating through his ears even now—he is here, and yet he isn't.

The last king.

“Iggy, please.”

Gladio swallows back the bile forming in his throat.

Noctis is the brother he had sworn to defend. He's done so without question or pause his entire life. He's always put Noctis before himself, before his desires, before everything. After having given everything to Noctis… of course he would find and take the one thing Gladio had selfishly hidden away.

“Noctis… I—“

Part of Gladio whispers that Gladio has done this to himself, that his thoughts about Noctis are fruitless and pointless and cruel. It isn’t Noctis’s fault. Noctis can be spoiled and selfish, he takes and takes and takes, but this? This is on him. Noctis takes, sure...

And all Ignis does is give. Unflinchingly loyal, dedicated—loving. He has always loved Noctis more than he could ever love Gladio, and for that a part of him hates Noctis.

But Ignis isn't his. Ignis had always been sparse with his touch, never initiating, and of course Gladio knows why. He's always known. All he had to do was look into Ignis's eyes and it spoke like fire, burning and smoldering. He pretended for a while, pretended like Ignis didn't spend their dates checking his phone, pretended that when Ignis accepted his touch it was with a silent sort of resignation, pretended that the reason Ignis bit down on his lips their only time in bed wasn't because he wanted to whisper out someone else's name. Maybe there was a chance they could have been happy, but Gladio knows better.

This is on Gladio.

He's the one who ended it, who told Ignis that whatever was between them was just casual—nothing serious. It never had been serious, and they could never be serious because of—

Noctis. Noctis was what he woke in the morning and went to bed thinking about. Following his family's sworn duty was the most important thing, and they both needed to have their heads on right. Of course Ignis agreed, all too eager; his lips still held the tell-tale sign of teeth marks and shame, and Ignis was sooner to be rid of it.

Gladio's always known that he's willing to do anything to follow his duty.

That’s one of their problems.

He's human, and he's flawed— and he knows just how much as he listens to the soft murmurs of words Gladio wishes Ignis had said to him and the leisurely slap of skin against skin. He watches as the wind shakes the roof, and a petty part of him wishes that it would collapse on top of both of them and ruin their perfect moment. He wants to remind Noctis that fucking his advisor goes against the entire purpose of their journey, that the gods do not look down upon a slacker with any favor.

Noctis's supposed to marry Lady Lunafreya. He's supposed to gather the respect and power of the Gods and the Lucii. He's supposed to be a king. He's supposed to be many things, and yet he isn't. He isn't ready. He isn't strong enough.

This is Gladio's fault.

Gladio also knows that the Age of Kings is near its end, the storybook drawing to a close. If Cor is right, if Gilgamesh spoke the truth, then Noctis is unlikely to see the first chapter to the next story.

The part of him that whispers half-truths and half-lies tells him that he's leading Noctis to his ruin, and that his jealousy will be what drives the sword straight through the Chosen King's back.

He knows the truth, though. Deep down, in a place where he remembers the little boy who he had sworn his life to, Gladio knows better. He's willing to die for Noctis no matter what pain he causes him. It doesn't dull the ache inside, doesn't fix his woes. Gladio still feels the pinch of anger inside, the part of him that covers a hole that he knows he can't fix on his own, but he bites it down. This is his duty.

But where does his duty belong? Does it belong to the man or with the Chosen King?

A long time ago, Gladio would have asked Ignis. Ignis held all the world's answers in the cold, sharp precision of an advisor's logic. He would have been able to set Gladio right, to remind him of his family's honor and pride. He would have told him that Noctis was important, but his duty even more so.

"I love you, Noct..."

That time is long gone.

Gladio's always known that he's willing to do anything to follow his duty.

And Gladio's always known that Ignis's willing to do anything to keep Noctis safe.

And that?

That's the other problem.

Gladio pulls the Genji sword from the dirt below and vanishes his half-eaten noodles into the Armiger for later. He isn't ready for this, isn't ready to see them.

Gladio needs more time, but he knows that not even a thousand years would give him the answers he needed.

Re: Fill 1/? Re: Ignis/Noctis Onesided Gladio/Ignis "But I love him"

[(Anonymous)]

Oh no this is perfect. My heart hurts for Gladio so much.