Tag: ffxv

Distorted Reflections

Or, Cor accidentally adopted a Nif general oops. 

1705 Words ~ General

Note: Had a 3am thought and ended up thinking about it too hard. Basically a what if scenario of Cor and Loqi meeting during the world of ruin in it’s early years, with Cor reflecting on just why he never actually finished off Loqi. I think on some level Cor became fond of him, and then my brain came up with reasons why. The main one being that Cor saw himself in Loqi. And of course I started thinking about Loqi having been a youngster when he joined the army, because he’s in his early 20′s canonically, and being discovered as a sword prodigy as well. Difference between them being Cor outgrew his hotheadedness. Loqi didn’t. 

Honestly, this was completely self indulgent. (I’m actually a little pleased that this week has been oddly productive for me.) 

Enjoy.


Cor looked down at the sleeping man. He was slumped against the wall of the diner, hidden behind the far end of the counter. His knees were curled up to his chest with one arm wrapped around them. Likely, he’d wake with a crick in his neck from his position. His other hand was wrapped around the hilt of his katana loosely, the grip slackened with sleep. The armor that the brigadier normally wouldn’t be caught dead without was nowhere in sight. Abandoned for more practical clothes now that the endless night called for stealth. Especially for people like him who refused to flee to safety.

He’d changed since the last time he’d seen him. Gone was the
patronizing hostility that was usually so present on his face, and instead
there was a weariness that even sleep wouldn’t erase. Dirt was smudged on his
cheeks from the time he’d been on the road, and he looked like he’d lost
weight. A sigh left him when the thought of Loqi being just a kid crossed his
mind again.

A kid that had tried to kill him multiple times, but still.

The first time he’d tried it, he remembered the bravado that
Loqi had when he’d leapt into the fight. A tiny teenager shouting about ending
the ‘great immortal’ for the empire. While someone, likely his handler, was
trying to shush him and talk him out of what was a bad idea. It had made for a
surreal experience. But then Loqi had actually attacked. And to his surprise, he’d
been good with the blade. More so than Cor might have been at that age.

…That didn’t mean that Cor didn’t flatten him though.

When the kid had been beaten down to the point of collapse,
he had clearly expected Cor to end him. With how he was curled up against the
wall right now reminded him of then. He’d been on his knees, his hand holding
the hilt of his sword tightly. He was slightly slumped forward, but that didn’t
stop him from trying to glare a hole through the Marshal’s head. The sword had probably
been the only thing holding him up.

Rather than kill him, as Cor should have considering he was
a Tummelt, he sheathed his sword.

“You shouldn’t charge in so recklessly. That’s the quickest
way to be killed.” He said. He’d left then, ignoring the profanities directed at his
back.

He later found out that Loqi had only been 15 in that first
encounter. The knowledge had made Cor reflect on his own life at that age. 

Honestly, the handler had reminded him of Regis and Clarus, always trying to
talk Cor out of picking a fight. Headstrong. Too headstrong. The only reason he
wasn’t now was because being that headstrong had caused him to charge into a
fight with Gilgamesh. And that hadn’t ended well for him at all.

At the time, he’d hoped to be the kid’s wake up call. Like
the blademaster had been for him. But no. Over the course of years, they’d
clashed time and time again. Each time Cor left him with a bit more advice than
the last. To his surprise, the kid did seem to take the advice to heart, but
that arrogance was a hindrance. His undoing with every fight.

Why did he give him advice at the end of their battles? Truthfully,
Cor wanted to see him reach his potential. Curiosity killed the cat and all. But
then he’d switched to those mechs, and it became rare for them to cross blades.
Cor didn’t want to admit it, but he’d wished that he’d been born in Insomnia.
Such talent was wasted in those mechs.

A small snore startled him out of his thoughts.

Loqi had slightly shifted in his sleep and his face was now
completely pressed against the wall. Cor sighed and then crouched down to his
level. He observed him, trying to guess how he’d react to being woken, and
decided to take the chance. His hand came to a rest on Loqi’s shoulder and
lightly shook him until he stirred.

His eyes opened in a daze and it took him a moment or two to
fully wake up. And once he did his hand tightened around his sword. Before he
could draw it out of its sheath, Cor halted its progress by laying his hand on
the base. The glare he shot at the Marshal would have sent lesser men running,
but Cor only returned the stare with a flat look. He half expected Loqi to
start another long-winded speech about killing him.

However, after a moment of staring each other down, the
fight suddenly went out of Loqi and he settled with a huff of annoyance. It was
strange to see someone who had once been so lively in such a muted state.
Though he did shoot him another surly look, as if offended Cor was breathing
the same air as him.

“…If I was a demon you’d be dead.” Cor said quietly,
breaking the silence.

Loqi grunted and closed his eyes, attempting to get
comfortable again. “Good thing you’re not then. If you’re going to kill me,
wait till I’m back asleep. If not, then leave.”

“Not doing either of those.”

One eye peeked back open, “Oh? Why’s that.”

“I’m currently on a hunt for a young kid with sandy brown hair
who some people have seen around here. Runs around with a blade. People are
worried he’s on his own out here.” Cor said, keeping a straight face.

“You can’t be serious.” Loqi hissed as he sat up with a
jerk. Hit a nerve there Cor guessed. The look in his eyes spelled death for
anyone within reach. That only served to amuse Cor slightly. They both knew
that he wasn’t a kid, despite what Cor thought of him.

Cor simply raised an eye brow at him in response. Loqi then huffed
and dropped his head against the wall with a thud. “Well, now you know it’s just
me, so you can go report back to whoever sent you and tell them to stuff it.”

“Not likely. You’d have to tell them yourself for them to
believe that.” Cor stood back up and offered a hand to him.

Loqi frowned and remained where he was. “Right. Because a Nif
walking into the only city left in the world is going to go over so well. You’re
the immortal, I’m sure that title still has some pull. Leave me be.”

Cor had the sudden urge to roll his eyes. Of course he wasn’t
going to make this easy. “Tummelt, you’ve spent enough time out here trying to
atone.”

“Atone for what I believed was right? I’m not out here to atone,
Marshal. I’m here because my chances of survival are higher with the demons
than in Lestallum.” His voice was filled with disbelief at the thought of
atoning for his action with the empire. But a moment of being surprised allowed
his face to shift into an uncertain expression. Had he been so transparent to Cor? 

Then it was gone again, hidden
behind a screen of confidence in his words.

It was almost believable. After all, ever since night had
fallen the empire’s generals had scattered to the wind. Occasionally, people
would catch glimpses of them in the dark. Moving from place to place. Not daring
to risk the Havens in case one of the hunters got it in their head to seek
revenge on them. And some people did blame them for the world ending.

Due to that, over the past two years the people were seeing
less and less of the Nifs. Demons picking them off over time. Some believed it
was only right they’d fall to the aftermath of their actions. Others sympathized
and wished for them to join them, to lend their skills to the survival effort. Loqi
was one such general, people recalling he hadn’t really hurt anyone outside his
orders. Caligo had been the one to fear, among others, and he was long gone.

Another sigh left Cor and he reached down, seizing the back
of Loqi’s jacket collar and lifting him to his feet. A string of curses fell
from Loqi’s lips as he knocked Cor’s hand away, and stumbling as soon as he put
weight on his legs. With a raised eyebrow, Cor simply stared at Loqi, who
refused to meet his eye.

He kept staring until Loqi answered his silent question.

“…Sprained it running from an Iron Giant.” He muttered it
quietly to the floor, but Cor still caught it.

He shook his head. “You’re dead out here if you try and wait
for that to heal.”

As someone who’s speed was his greatest asset, Loqi surely
knew that the moment his ankle had been hurt it meant death.

“And why do you care, Marshal?” Loqi asked with a sigh of
his own, the exhaustion catching up to him once more.

“You’ve grown on me.” Cor said honestly, offering an arm. “Now
come on. You can lean on me until we get to the others.”

“Wonderful.” The amount of sarcasm he forced into the one
word dripped like venom into a beating heart. But he didn’t refuse the help. Rather,
he allowed himself to lean heavily on Cor as they made their way outside.

It was a long walk, one they made in silence and one sided
rude looks, but they eventually came to the small group that Cor had come along
with. Loqi was forced to explain that, no he wasn’t a kid, he was 25 thank you
very much, and yes it was him running around alone. Surprisingly, no one was
openly hostile with him. Rather, when he wasn’t looking, they’d shoot him
pitying looks. He’d been a child when he’d rose through the ranks after all. Who
could blame him for following what he had believed was right?

As soon as they’d secured the truck they’d traveled in and
got on the road, he’d fallen back asleep. Cor on the other hand, stayed awake
and watched the passing landscape, trying to think of a way to explain bringing
an old enemy back with him to Prompto, Ignis, and Gladiolus.

He already had a headache.

Lucian Theif

3846 words ~ General

Note: So this happened. I saw this post and just…this happened. Then I got about half way through and was like…Shit this got stupidly long. One of these days I should have someone beta for me. 

Anyhow, it’s just a thing with Cor being the one who snuck in and stole Prompto. Threw in an OC to move the story along. Funnily enough, I almost changed the story completely and had him steal two of the clones instead. But I managed to talk myself out of that. Anyways, enjoy.


It was frigid in the hallway, and the dimmed lights only
added to a feeling of being out of place. And he was very out of place since he
was neither one of Niflheim’s scientists, or one of their experiments. Such was
the nature of Cor’s mission though. Infiltrate the facility, find any useful
information, don’t get caught. 

Being out of place wasn’t anything new.

However, what was new was all the luck he’d been having once
he was inside the building. The first door he’d managed to sneak through lead
to what appeared to be a staff lounge of sorts, giving him a chance to catch
his breath after being outside in the cold. Not only that, but there had been a
map of the facility with a note on it, labeling a recent add on as where the
Deathless project would be stored.

He’d figured that just the map would have been the Astrals
smiling upon him. But the note? That sent red flags up in his head considering
Project Deathless was precisely why he was here. Could someone have leaked
that? Was it a trap? But trap or no trap, he’d have to check out the location
marked on the map anyways. It’d be a good starting point. And on the off chance
it wasn’t a trap, he’d be that much closer to getting the information he needed
and getting out.

So, he’d left the room and embarked down the hall, making
sure to memorize the way back for a quick escape. Occasionally, there was one
of the Magitek soldiers ambling through the halls on a patrol. They weren’t
very good at it though, considering that hiding behind the occasional box or
around a corner seemed to be enough to keep himself out of trouble.

But then he’d stumbled upon a small shelf with papers on it.

He’d grabbed the top most paper on the stack and frowned. A
memo with an all access pass code to the facility. Ironically, it stated that
the employees needed to stop leaving the passcodes laying around. If he wasn’t
careful, the frown on his face would become permanent. This was entirely too
convenient, the enemy must have known he was coming, and he was probably dead
the moment he’d walked through the doors. No. The moment he’d left Lucis

…That, or he’d done something that’d pleased the Astrals
astronomically.

He could guess which was more likely.

But it had him curious. Just what kind of trap was he
walking into? So, he’d continued to the room, which was, predictably, locked
with a keypad. Warily, he punched in the code from the memo and stepped to the
side as the door opened with a pressurized noise. He drew his blade and waited
until the count of five before stepping out from his cover and rolled into the
room. He landed in a crouch and was ready for a fight, tense and waiting. His
focus was on the area around him, and his intuition ready to tell him where any
strike may come from.

So, it was something of a surprise to find nothing popping
out to attack him.

Cautiously, he lowered his blade and rose to his feet, eyes
scanning the room. Nothing. There were no guards, none of the magitek, or even
any scientists.

“Just what kind of security are they running over here?” He
muttered under his breath and he sheathed his sword and started to look through
the room.

It’d been quiet for almost half an hour as he perused the
documents laying around, hoping to find something of use. Since it was so
quiet, when lights turned on behind him suddenly, he’d been startled. He spun
around quickly, hand already on his hilt when he ended up freezing.

His heart clenched. The documents had mentioned infants he
recalled. He’d assumed that had been for a study of some sort. Assigning case
numbers and such. Instead, he was face to face with an unspeakable act. The
light that had startled him was emitting from seven tanks, and inside each one
floated an infant. All of them drifting in their tanks, unware he was there.

Each tank also had what appeared to be paperwork attached to
it. Perhaps holding what he was looking for. Though he hoped not. Slowly, he
made his way over, and with every step his morals were screaming out that
everything about this was wrong. He approached one of the tanks, picking up its
papers, and slowly inhaled before reading. As he read, his face slowly paled,
and his eyes widened by the slightest of margins.

The realization that this was what he was looking
for almost knocked the wind out of him. He looked at the baby in the tank,
floating inside, eyes closed as if it was sleeping, blond hair floating freely
around him.  He’d never been an emotional
kind of man. No. But seeing a child’s face, and knowing what their fate would
be was one of the hardest things he’d ever experienced.

This was Project Deathless.

He dropped the paperwork before he thought better of it,
needed a moment to adjust to the reality he was in. How had Niflheim allowed
this to happen? To let infants be raised for war and nothing else. To be
twisted by demon blood and changed from human to machine.

His hands slightly shook as he picked up the papers to take
them with, recalling just how many of the magitek he’d slain over the years. If
the papers were to be believed, they’d all started out as this. Just a child,
robbed of any other life they might have had.

With a heavy heart, he turned to leave. He had what he
needed. But as he got to the door he paused and looked back. He felt tired and
knew that making decisions when he was tired wasn’t the wisest of choices. But
as he gazed back into the room at the child, he made a choice. He crossed the
room quickly, recalling what he’d read and pressed three buttons.

One to drain the tank, the second to turn off the vital
monitors, and the third to lower the glass.

This wasn’t his best idea, and there was also no way he
could rationalize saving one life, and he knew that this wasn’t atoning for the
countless he’d taken. But his damn conscience wasn’t going to let him walk away
from this child. It was screaming for him to take them all in fact.

But he couldn’t.

Once the glass had dropped, he picked up the child as it
coughed up the liquid and cradled it to his chest. Once the child had finished
coughing, he breathed normally, and his pulse was strong. Considering that the child
had just been submerged in what he assumed was liquid oxygen, his mind turned
traitorous and wondered if the infant was used to switching between air and the
liquid. If so, how many times had the infant been taken out and then placed
back into the tank?

A huff of disgust left him before he could stop it, and he
glanced around the room for anything to cover the child with. If he was taking
him with, he’d need to be covered with something to protect him from the cold. It
was then he noticed the shelves sitting just outside the light of the tanks.
Upon them were heaped what looked like blankets and supplies for the infants.
Bags, food, clothes…

Convenient. Again.

But he didn’t care. For all he knew the child could be a red
herring with false information attached. If that was the case he’d gladly
accept that he’d failed the mission in exchange for saving one of these
children. He quickly packed a bag and filled it with what he could for the
child. Supplies that he’d probably need considering there was no way in hell he
was prepared to care for a child on the way back to his extraction point. Once
a bag was packed and he had it situated on his back he turned his attention to
the baby sleeping in his arms.

As Cor pulled the clothes on him, that was when the child
started fussing. Its eyes popped open and immediately turned watery. Cor
hurriedly finished dressing him and bundled him into a blanket.

“Shh,” Cor scooped the child back up from where he’d lain him
and lightly bounced him, thanking the astrals that he’d seen Regis with the
prince more than once, “Hey now. It’s alright.”

He spoke quietly to soothe the child, and watched the door.
No one was coming so far. But the crying did make him second guess his choice.
Only now did he remember that there were Magitek throughout the halls. Could
the child be quiet enough to make it through them all? Did he dare risk an
alternative route?

But then the baby quieted, and looked at Cor.

Cor without thinking really, offered his pinky to the child.
The baby’s hand grabbed onto him, and cooed, but not happily, no. Rather, he
just wanted to make noise it seemed. Cor kept his face neutral as he studied
him.

Bright blue eyes stared into his and this time a happy coo
did leave the baby’s mouth. Almost as if he was just happy to be looked at.

Cor inhaled slowly and then sighed, knowing this was the
right choice, and turned his attention back to the door.

Back the way he came then. He could make in one shot if he
ran maybe… Wait, shit. Running with a baby. Bad idea. He’d have to go as slowly
as he came, if not slower. Plus, how was he going to explain that the mission
might be a failure? Technically, this was…project Deathless. There was the
paperwork, and he didn’t have to put in the report that he’d pretty much been
guided here… They didn’t need to know he didn’t look anywhere else, right? And
it might not be a red herring!

…

He was so fired.

But, he figured as he looked back down at the baby, it’d be
worth it. If he could get them out of the facility and back to his extraction
point that is.

“What do you think little guy? Can you manage to be quiet
for that long?” He muttered.

The child squeaked rather loudly, but with a smile. Another
slow sigh left Cor, followed by the child reaching up and hitting his nose
lightly.

But that was when he heard footsteps at the door.

His head swiveled up and he froze, as did the woman who’d
began to walk inside.

For a moment, they just stared at each other. Sizing each
other up. Ordinarily, she wouldn’t have been a problem. She was clearly an
academic. He could have incapacitated her within seconds of seeing her.
However, the child in his arms posed a problem.

Her face, one of shock and fear, slowly turned into narrowed
eyes and a hardened gaze.

“You…You’re Lucian…no?” Her voice was quiet and the words thickly
accented. The woman sounded like she’d hardly spoken a word of Lucian until
this point. But he still understood, and nodded slowly, his own eyes
scrutinizing her, trying to figure out what she was doing.

“Yes.”

She glanced back at the door, giving him a moment of panic
at the thought she was going to go get help. But then she stepped into the room
quietly, and pressed the keypad beside it to shut the door.

“Quickly…The child… She said, turning back to him, her
expression pleading.

“You…want me to take him?” He asked, confusion running
across his face freely. He was anyways, but he’d expected her to have the
opposite reaction. Like trying to stop him.

She nodded and then beckoned him to follow her over to the
computer. He did, though slowly. She placed what looked like a jump drive into
the man computer and began to sort through files. Over her shoulder he watched
the screen. Data from the project streamed across it rapidly, and his grasp of
Gralean only allowed him to catch small phrases, or part of a word. Something
about demons? He frowned and tried harder to translate faster, but she moved
from file to file too quickly.

Eventually, after minutes of silence, she stopped, closed
all programs, and pulled out the drive. Her eyes met his as she handed him what
was probably the most information Lucis would ever have on the Magitek. He took
it from her, looking up with absolute confusion. She shrugged and gestured to
the tanks.

“Project…Deathless.” She scoffed. “Many die.”

She shook her head, “It’s… This is not what…”

She said something in Gralean, which he took to mean she had
meant to help the people. Which he understood how sometimes people could be
twisted against themselves. He could hear the regret in her words. Perhaps she,
like him, hoped to save at least one of the children from a life as a machine.

She gestured to him to follow her again and he did,
tentatively. At the back of the room, a secret hall opened, and she stepped
through. He peeked inside, and jumped when the child suddenly babbled. He’d
almost forgotten he was in his arms. Of all things.

The woman turned and looked at the child fondly, almost with
what Cor could call longing as well. But then she faced forward.

“This path leads to the…The-” She muttered what sounded
like twenty different curses in Gralean before snapping her fingers, “-the
entry hall.”

“No Magitek?” He asked, an eyebrow raised as he followed
her. He knew following her blindly like this was stupid. It was. But part of
him honestly wanted to believe that some shred of human decency could be found
in this facility.

“Some.” She said, and he stopped in his tracks.

But then she held up her wrist, a silver band with a small
red light going off every few seconds. “They won’t attack.”

“What is that?” He asked, starting to follow behind her
again.

She glanced back at him, and then gestured to another
doorway. “Electronic pass. They don’t attack.”

“That’s handy.” He mutters. Maybe if they had that in Lucis
as well…they could use the Nif’s tech against them.

Almost as if she could hear his thoughts she added, “Also
tracks. It… records our movement. We can’t leave.”

“We?” He frowned. Did she mean him and her, or her and
someone else?

“Scientists.”

She then stopped and pushed him into a room.

“Hey-!”

“Shush!” She stepped in front of the doorway and blocked it
from view. Rounding the corner was one of the Magitek security details. She
dropped her gaze to the ground, but held up her wrist. There was a moment where
it paused, but then it soon continued, not bothering to look inside the room
she was blocking.

They waited a few moments until it was out of sight before
she let him step back into the hall. They then continued at a fast pace.

“Hurry. The timing…” She shrugged as she walked, giving up
on trying to get what she wanted across to him.

He understood though. Kind of. He could only guess, but he’d
hoped she meant that if they timed it right, no further troubles would happen
across them. And it was true. They went down hall after hall, with her in the
lead, and came across nothing else. Soon enough, they were back into the lobby
he’d started in.

She’d then paused in the room, and turned to look back at
him. “May I…?”

She gestured to the baby and he nodded. So, she stepped
closer to him and placed a hand on the child’s head, who burbled at the
contact. Up close, he could see that she was about his age. Maybe a few years
older possibly, but still in her twenties. And there was a definite sadness in
her eyes as she looked at the baby.

Without meaning to, he asked, “Why are you helping me?”

The question, he thanked his lucky stars, didn’t offend her.
Instead, a small smile crossed her face when the baby’s hand wrapped around one
of her fingers.

She said quietly, “Let me at least save this one.”

He looked up at her and watched as she pulled her hand away
from the baby’s grasp, and then took a step back.

“Go. In that file, you have the…names. You have the names of
scientists here and other…Facilities? Who don’t want this.” She said, returning
to the determined mindset from earlier.

“If you don’t want this, come with me.” He said without
thinking. That same longing from earlier crossed her face.

“I can’t. Go out the door and-” she held up her wrist,
“-Magitek will come.”

“We could out run them. You could come to Lucis.” He knew
that what he was saying was a lie. They’d likely be caught. But there was a
slim chance they’d make it. And, like before, it wasn’t sitting right with him
to leave someone who, for all intents and purposes, was being forced to carry
out these inhuman experiments.

She shook her head. “We do not expect to be saved, Lucian.”

He stared at her for a few moments, and opened his mouth to
try and convince her to take the chance. Even though he was already taking one
with the child, he was willing to try and get her out too. But then a voice
startled both out of their conversation.

“Oh dear. A Lucian is making off with one of our star
experiments.”

The voice sent chills up both their spines, and Cor whirled
on heel to face whoever it was. The woman paled, but stood up a little
straighter upon seeing who it was. And in his arms, the baby began to fuss.

“Chancellor.”

“Sunna.” The man strode into the room with a smirk on his
face. “One of our researchers assisting a Lucian. What would Besithia say?”

“Who are you?” Cor, though he knew it was dangerous, drew
his sword and held it in front of him one handed. An attempt to keep them safe.

“It doesn’t matter. Consider me a friend.” He grinned even
wider, and Cor felt very uneasy.

“You’re no friend.” The woman, Sunna he recalled, said.

“Aw,” The Chancellor feigned being hurt by placing a hand
over his heart, “And here I’d brought a gift.”

Cor watched as the man reached into his pocket and pulled
out what looked like a metal key of some sort. Beside him Sunna stiffened.

“The key to your freedom Sunna. Imagine. No more hurting
those children you seem to adore. No more learning from Besithia.” He smiled.

Cor glanced at her, and saw that she was looking at her
wrist. But then she looked up and her eyes narrowed. She was going to refuse,
it was clear on her face. Before she could respond, Cor cut her off, seeing an
opportunity to get her out of there as well.

“What’s the cost?”

The man smiled, and instead of answering, tossed the key
over. Sunna’s face was bewildered as she caught it. “No cost. I merely wish to
aid you in your mission.”

Cor grimaced, “There’s always a catch.”

“Oh…Alright. I wish for you to return my map to where it
was.” The man laughed as Cor visibly paled.

“You…It was you?”

“Oh yes. We knew of your mission months ago. Or rather I
did. And I saw an opportunity.” The man out stretched his arms, gesturing to the
whole facility. “This facility. Easy to get into and out of wouldn’t you say?
And if Sunna had the resources, that thing on her wrist wouldn’t have stopped
her from leaving. She’d have been able to get out of it I’m sure.”

“But alas, no matter how much I told Besithia that the
security was lacking, he has not listened. And so…” He gestured to the three of
them. “Once he hears that not only a scientist escaped, with one of the experiments,
and at a Lucian’s side none the less…He’d have no choice but to better our
security.”

The reason sounded as insincere as they came. But Cor wasn’t
going to question it any further. He recognized a snake when he heard one. So
instead of responding, he turned to Sunna.

“Hurry, take that off.”

She startled out of whatever thoughts she’d been having and
moved to comply. She looked…hopeful almost. And soon enough, the bracelet
clicked open and dropped to the floor. She kicked it for good measure, sending
it sliding to a stop at the man’s feet.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” He said, almost playfully,
“Unless you’ve changed your mind. I’m more than willing to take the child
back.”

He held out his arms at the same time Cor tightened his hold
when the baby let out a soft coo. “Not on your life.”

“Oh? Pity, and I thought we were friends. Ah well.” The man
then turned on heel, and began to leave. As he left he called back over his
shoulder, “You’d best hurry on by the way, the other scientist will be waking
soon.”

When he was finally gone, they both stood in stunned
silence. But then they both turned into a flurry of movement. He placed the map
back where he’d found it, note and all, and sheathed his sword. Sunna accessed
a box of jackets, for when the scientists had to go outside and put one on,
alongside a hat and gloves. She then took an extra one out as well and hat as
small as she could find.

She then walked over to Cor and then arranged the hat on the
baby’s head. “For the child, the blanket will not be enough.”

She said in
explanation, and gestured for him to hand him over. He did so without
complaint. Sunna could be trusted, he was sure of that now. She tucked the
bottom of the coat over the baby’s feet before zipping it up and tucking the
rest around him, creating a makeshift snowsuit. Then she picked him back up and
cradled him to herself. In her arms, the child began to drift back to sleep.

“We need to go. That man…” She started, but Cor stepped
forward and to the door.

“Come on then.”

He felt like she had more to say, but it was better to leave
sooner. Considering that he originally was sure he’d failed the mission, and
only just now realized that he was coming back with the project data, one of
the experiments, AND a researcher, he did NOT want to tempt his luck by staying
any longer. What she had to say could wait.

And so, for what she hoped was the last time, Sunna keyed in
the code and opened the door to the outside. They both then stepped outside,
and departed, the tracks left behind them disappearing as the snow quietly fell
around them.

image

Bleh, I’m just going to call this done. Anyhow, I saw a gif of Monica in her Crownsguard uniform(I think) somewhere from the Comrades closed test. And Loved how she looked. (Yes with a capital ‘L’) So I broke out the old drawing stuff and did this. I got through to the half way mark and realized I had drawn her hair part the wrong way and had to flip the drawing. But yeah. I don’t entirely hate it. 

Angsty request here! So the chocobros are fighting against some imperial soldiers and as they go to land the final blow on the last enemy standing, that enemy uses their s/o as human shield. It’s too late to stop mid-attack, and their s/o is injured badly (almost fatally, but not quite). How would the chocobros react a) when it happened b) with the other chocobros while their s/o recovered and c) after their s/o had healed? I know, I’m horrible, but the idea won’t get out of my head!

You get a short fic thing. Because I couldn’t pass this up either. (Prompto’s is next.) Gender neutral pronouns for the S/O. 

Noctis:

They lock eyes once, and he’s moving too fast to stop.

“No!”

At the last moment their eyes closed and their face relaxed, accepting what was about to happen. But then a scream leaves them and their expression turns to one of pain. The strike goes clean through them, their blood running down it’s blade in slow rivulets. Their had reaches out and grabs a hand full of his shirt. They opens their eyes and offer a shaky smile, trying to reassure their love that they’ll be fine. But then they start to sink to the ground.

For a moment, he’s too horrified to process what he’d done. But then he snapped out of it and hurriedly grabbed them and guided them to the ground before they could fall. He made sure they were on their side, so the blade wouldn’t shift and hurt them more. A sun shot sounds over his head, Prompto finishing their enemy with two guns in hand, overheating them both. Not that it mattered since that was the last MT. They were safe from further attack for now, but…

“Ignis!” He yelled, a touch of panic in his voice. This wasn’t something that he could do alone. Pulling out the blade would hurt them, and he wasn’t sure he could do so without them bleeding out without immediate healing. They were already losing too much blood.

In the dirt beside him Ignis lands on his knees after running over, eyes quickly looking over the injury. There wasn’t any other choice but to pull it out. And so he places a hand on their side to hold them steady and looked to Noctis, “On three. Ready?”

Noctis nods and grabs the hilt with both hands, waiting for Ignis’ count.

“One, two, three!”

He pulls with all his strength while Ignis, careful not to cut himself, guides the blade in a straight path. Once the blade is free, Noctis drops it to the ground and rushed back to their side, taking their hand in his. It’s ice cold, and they didn’t so much as move when the blade was pulled. Not a good sign. But it’d be fine soon.

Ignis broke the elixir over their wound after shifting them to their back, and they waited for the wound to seal. For a heart stopping moment, nothing happened. He worried they were too late. They didn’t have another phoenix down on them, the last had been used earlier in the fight. But then they breath, the wound closes, and they are whole.

And though they are asleep, Noctis pulls them close and buries his face in their hair.

Too close.

That had been too close.  

~

It was his fault and he can’t let it go.

They had set up camp at a nearby haven, waiting for them to wake and rejoin them. But the blood loss had been extensive, and no one was sure when they’d wake. So they’d settled in, and were now biding their time with training before night fall. Something Gladio had suggested and that Noctis, to everyone’s surprise, had agreed to.

He should be able to pull out of a warp strike he thinks to himself as he moves. Though he knows that it’s not possible without endangering himself. Stasis is the last thing from his mind as he warps from Gladio, phases through his attack and strikes, warps to Prompto to knock him off balance, then to Ignis. But right as he prepares to attack Ignis, his magic runs out and he ends up full on crashing into Ignis as dead weight.

The momentum sends him rolling off Ignis, off the haven, and to the ground below. It knocks the wind out of him, but he’s otherwise unharmed.

“Noct!” “Noctis!”

His friends call from above him. He opens his eyes and finds the three of them peering down at him in concern.

“I’m alright.” He raises his hand to them to wave them off of coming down after him and rises. Though he doesn’t miss the shared glance between Gladio and Ignis. Probably just put together that he was distraught. He’d been trying to hide how upset he was with himself. They were worried about them too. They shouldn’t have to worry about him as well, especially since…

A sigh escapes him before he finishes that thought, and he begins to walk around the haven to the path that would allow him back up.

“I should of been keeping an eye on how much warping I was doing earlier.” He says in explanation as soon as he reached the trio.

“I’ll say.” Ignis pushed his glasses back up and frowns. “If that ever happens in combat,be sure to use an ether right away.”

“I know specs.” Noctis smiled slightly, but saw Ignis about to launch into a lecture and the smile fell. Before he could start speaking though, he needed to know. “You alright though? I was going pretty fast.”

“Aw he’s fine.” Gladio said slapping Noctis on the back. “He was just about to start dinner, right?”

A rare display from Gladio, taking it easy on someone. Ignis, when faced with that knowledge, let it go. “Yes, I was actually. I’ll get back to that.”

They all departed for their own areas of the Haven. Ignis to his kitchen, Gladio by the fire, and Noctis with his legs dangling over the edge. Prompto would normally be on the other side of the fire doing maintenance on his guns, but instead went to join Noctis.

Prompto snickered as he sat and said, “Dude. I got the best picture of Ignis because of you.”

“What?” Noctis raised his eyebrow.

“Take a look!” Prompto held out his camera for Noctis to see.

On the screen was them from earlier. The light around Noct wasn’t it’s usual blue, but the dark purple of stasis. It was immediately after he’d crashed, as his face was planted into Ignis’ chest, and his arms were trapped between them. That didn’t look comfortable for either of them, and Ignis would at least have a bruise from it.

Speaking of Ignis, his eyes were widened in an expression of confused terror in the picture. His feet had tangled with each other when he’d tried to step away from the prince, causing him to fall backwards, and the spear that had been in his hand was just out of reach and hovering in midair. He’d clearly let go of it in surprise. Along with everything else, his arms were extended straight out from the force of the impact. His mouth was pressed together in a tight line. He looked almost owlish and all together cartoonish.

A laugh escaped from Noctis before he could stop it, and Prompto joined in. “See? I told you!”

“Oh man, we need to get that printed.” He said, a smirk still on his face.

“Oh totally. Blackmail material.” Prompto grinned at him and then they lost themselves to pointless chatter.

If Prompto could help it, he wouldn’t let his friend dwell on the sleeping person in the tent. They all wouldn’t. It was all too clear that he was blaming himself. If they could all distract his thoughts until they woke up and dissolved his guilt themself, then they’d have done enough.

~

It took them three days to wake.

It was quiet. No one had noticed that they had shown signs of stirring. And so they were alone when they woke. Which they didn’t mind. It gave them time to get their bearings and recall just what had happened. Once they did remember, a sigh left them and they sat up slowly. A wince crossed their face as they did so, and they had to take a moment to let the pain subside before doing anything else.

They pushed their hair out of their face and grimaced at how greasy it felt. It’d been a while then. Before anything else, they crawled over to their bag of things and changed out of the dirty ones. After that, grateful for the tent’s height, they stood up. A dizzy spell hit them, but they remained standing. Time to face the day.

They left the tent quietly, bare feet making no sound as they moved. The boys were all around the camp, Prompto and Noctis sitting at the edge, Ignis was washing dishes, and Gladio was sitting by the fire. It was peaceful, and they were loath to break the peace. But…Noctis. They remembered his face clearly when they’d been hurt. It wouldn’t be fair to make him wait for them any longer.

“Hey guys.” They said softly. They smiled slightly at how startled they all were. But then Noctis’ head whipped around and the sheer look of relief on his face was worth waking up for.

“You’re awake.”

He rose from his spot and crossed the distance between them and him, wrapping them into an almost bone crushing hug. They held him gently in return.

“I’m so sorry.” He muttered into their hair, and they shook their head.

“Don’t be. It wasn’t your fault.”

They didn’t know how long they stood together, but the others didn’t see fit to interrupt them. Noctis’ embrace spoke volumes about how scared he was. As if he was pressing his fear of losing them into their hug.

They closed their eyes and pressed their forehead into his shoulder. 

“I’m here.” They whispered to him. “I’m here.”

And if it was Gladio’s s/o that proposed to him instead of the contrary?~ sweet and fluffy, please?~

The day had started like any other. Both got up at different times, got ready, and went to work. They were normally the first awake, due to working with the marshal. He was known to keep odd hours, which meant up before the sun and working through out the day on most things. Being his lead intelligence officer required them to keep the same hours. Which wasn’t all bad. They were always on top of their work, got a longer lunch hour, and were near their beloved at all times.

Gladio on the other hand could take his time getting to the citadel. Noctis never woke up early if he could help it, despite Ignis’ best attempts. Which gave him enough time to sleep in a bit, go for a run, and then get ready for the day. He didn’t have a schedule like his dearest did. More like he was on call in case Noct wanted to go somewhere. But while he was in the citadel? Noctis was as safe as could be which gave him time to wander about and maybe even catch a few moments with his other. 

It was a simple life. There was no push or pull from either of them for things to change. (Though a small part of him hoped that one day, maybe they’d honor him by taking his last name.)

While he was walking by one of the training rooms, he could hear a voice he recognized. Quietly, so not to distract the combatants, he slipped into the room. He wasn’t the only one here too, and he could see why. His dearest was amazing, flowing through blocks and attacks effortlessly. Cor wasn’t so bad either.

He watched them move forward, refusing to step backwards no matter how hard Cor pushed them. Their breath was heaving as they moved, and their collar and tie slightly undone so their movement wasn’t as restricted. And though they would say that they didn’t look their best, he found them dazzling…

Right until Cor managed to slip past their defense and knock them across the room with the back of his blade.

With a loud thud and a grunt from them, they hit the wall and slid to the floor. He frowned but didn’t rush to them. Though he really really wanted to. (As in every fiber of his being was yelling at him to check if they were hurt.) But if he did, he knew they wouldn’t appreciate it. He could practically hear them scolding him in their head.

They huffed and lightly hit their head against the wall at their back. “This round goes to you, Marshal.”

“Alright. I trust you’ll follow through? “He raised an eyebrow, and if Gladio didn’t know better he looked…pleased. 

They got to their feet, having caught their breath and straightened out their clothes before replying. “Of course.”

“Good.” With that, the gathered crowd cleared the way to the door as the Marshal walked toward it. He caught Gladio’s eye and nodded in acknowledgement, “Gladio.” 

He nodded back to him, and then the Marshal was gone. He had to be imagining things, Gladio thought to himself. But he could have sworn that Cor’s eyes had lit up a little upon seeing him. (Should he be worried? He felt like something was going on and just couldn’t put his finger on it.)

It was only after he had put it out of mind and over heard some of the guard talking about an agreement that his sweetheart had made with the marshal. For the sparring match he assumed. He finally walked over to them as they tried to stretch their shoulder muscles and the knots that must have been forming after their bout.

“Hey.” He smiled and when they heard him they turned and beamed at him.

“Hey there.” But then the smile slipped into a frown, “Oh…did you see all that?” 

“I saw only the last few moments. You looked good babe.” He guided them to face away from him and carefully began to massage the part of their shoulders they had been trying to relax.

They sighed with relief and closed their eyes, leaning into his touch. “I don’t agree, but thank you. …Damn, I’m going to be feeling this all week.”

Gladio laughed. “I’ll bet you will. Sparing with the marshal’s no joke. Can I ask how you got him to? He rarely does these days.”

They smiled, and he felt his heart flutter. (Which he’d deny to the end of his days that their smile still did that to him.) 

“It was just my luck honestly. I caught him in a good mood.” They turned around, and before he could ask any more questions, reached up their hands to his neck to guide him down into a kiss. That made him forget his curiosity, and softly relax into the kiss. 

When they pulled away he opened his eyes and couldn’t get over that they had kissed him. In public. They were never one for public displays, and he wondered if this meant they would be okay if he kissed them in public. All the time. Because he had always wanted to. 

“So, it’s my lunch hour now. Care to join me?” 

“Y-yeah. I mean yes.” He huffed with laughter and really hoped that no one could see how stupidly happy they made him. 

They led the way out of the room, ignoring some of the hoots and whistles from the few trainees that were left. While they opened the door, Gladio turned around and glared at those who were making the noises. Like hell he was going to let them make his sweetheart nervous over that kiss. Especially since her really wanted them to be comfortable in public with him. 

But then they left the room and walked toward their office, presumable to pick up their belongings to go home for lunch. However, they surprised him when they entered their office and then gestured to the couch they had inside. 

“Sit. I packed lunch today because I figured we could just hide out in here for awhile instead of taking the time to go to a restaurant.” 

“I’m fine with that. Just gives us more time to eat.” Gladio flopped into the couch cushions and watched them as they went over to the small kitchen area and began to dig around. upon seeing what they brought out, he snorted.

“Cup noodles? I thought you hated those things.” 

“I don’t hate them, I just think they’re not very healthy.” They threw a frown over their shoulder as they set water onto boil, “And after that fight I deserve to be a bit unhealthy. I got all my training in for the week.”

“I hope you don’t mean that,” He smirked from his place on the couch, “We have a training session together later.” 

They froze for a moment and then groaned. “Shit.”

He laughed quietly and then his expression softened. “But if you really don’t feel up to it, we can skip for this week.”

They sighed and then gave him a smile over their shoulder again. “Like I would miss it.”

After that they both fell into silence. They were so focused on the task at hand, not wanting to burn themselves with the water, that they didn’t notice Gladio watching them. He enjoyed seeming them lost in their head. Which clearly they were. Cup noodles, though good, didn’t require much thought or that much hovering. So the fact that they were standing there meant they had something on their mind. And he could wait to see if they would share. If they didn’t? That was fine too.

Eventually, they wandered back to the couch to let the noodles soak up the water. They flopped down beside Gladio and rested their head against his shoulder. He in turn shifted to put his arm around the back of them. They closed their eyes, just enjoying the closeness, and Gladio couldn’t help but press a kiss to their forehead. A small smile crept across their face and they gave a hum of appreciation. 

But then they broke the silence, “And to think in a few hours we’ll be kicking each other’s asses.”

“Babe, we were having a moment.” He couldn’t help the small laugh that followed.

“Our noodles will get soggy if I let the moment go on too long.” They snickered as they stood. They then strode over to where they had left the noodles and carried one in each hand back to the couch. the pair then got to eating and passed the time by comparing their days and letting the other know where they’d be before their training session. 

Before long, they heard a knock at the door.

They straightened themself up as best they could and then called, “Come in.”

The door swung open and there, once again, was Cor. “Officer.”

“Marshal.” They stood and walked over, “Trouble?”

“Yeah. Of the outer agents kind.” Cor pointedly looked past them at Gladio.

“Ah. A moment then.” They looked over their shoulder. “Glads?”

“Go ahead, I’ll clean up in here before I leave.” He smiled at them and waved.

They flashed a thankful smile at him and then followed the Marshal out the door.

~

He didn’t get to see them again until later in the afternoon. He was already in the training room, considering that Noctis was before his dearest. He’d already sent Noctis on his way, though he had a feeling that him an Prompto were lurking nearby, and maybe even Ignis if he had the time. The three of them could not believe that he was in a relationship, especially with them.

Speaking of them…

“Glads, sorry I’m a little late.” They were smiling, but it didn’t quite reach their eyes. Instead there was a nervousness there. Why? Heck if he knew. 

“It’s fine, I figured whatever had the Marshal pulling you off our break was pretty serious.” He smiled as they reached him and pushed part of their bangs out of their eyes. 

Their smile was a little more genuine after that, and they relaxed. But then they smiled, undoing their tie and collar once more. “Ready to begin?”

“You know it. Should we run through some drills, or would you rather just spar?” Gladio asked, likewise removing his coat. He took their tie and bundled it in his jacket before sliding it across the floor to the wall. 

“Just sparring today. I’m out of practice the Marshal said.” They grimace and shrugged.

“Alright. Get ready then.” 

Unlike most training sessions, the pair used live steel. So any injuries would be real. They both had talked it over when they had started training together, and chose this method purely for the lessons it would teach. They’d also had set guidelines and rules that they followed to keep each other as safe as possible with this. Gladio, though it hurt him to harm them, made peace with the idea by remembering that they would learn from it. 

They stepped back from one another and brought out their weapons. Somewhere off to the side, they both heard a startled squeak.

“They’re going to KILL each other.” The voice was soon silenced by a stern, “SSSHH.” 

They blinked at each other, and had to both keep themselves from laughing. The Prince and his friend. But then they refocused, and dropped into the fight. Both were sizing one another up, as usual. Gladio always attacked first, but this time they didn’t give him a chance to fully take them in. They stepped forward and swung at his right side with their left. It was their weaker side, but it would also take him off guard.

His eyes widened and he blocked with his sword before trying to step forward and into their space to use the pommel to strike their ribs. But they quickly stepped out of reach to his left, and thrust forward. He blocked once more, and started to pick up that they were trying to get him on the defensive. Which caused them to lower their defense a bit more than normal.

With that knowledge, he grinned and began to push back. 

They clashed over and over, moving through out the room. Gladio knew that if he could get one good hit on them it’d be over. But their speed made that extremely difficult. But not impossible. However, both parties had already collected a number of scratches and bruises to the cheers and yells of the two watching. (And if they concentrated on the conversation, they would have caught some rather hilarious commentary from Ignis about their match.) It had been an hour almost since they started, and they both were breathing hard. And so they decided they had to end it. 

Then they surprised him by locking their swords together, and using them as leverage to headbutt him. He blindly retaliated, using the pain to fuel a kick to their stomach and send them flying into the wall. But this time, they managed to land with their feet on the wall and push off back toward him. 

They were moving too fast and his eyes were still teary from the headbutt. It would have been a killing strike, had they not reversed their grip and used the haft of their sword. The blow was enough to knock the wind out of him, as it hit the center of his chest. From there, their momentum threw him off balance and he tipped backwards. The back of his head hit the ground and he was dazed…

right until he felt the blade pressing against his neck.

“…Well damn. I submit.” He huffed in amusement, but then groaned in pain. 

They flopped forward on top of him, just trying to catch their breath. “…You certainly…know….how to keep someone on guard.”

“Sort of my job.” He mumbled. They lay their wallowing in the pain that came after such an intense session, but then both got back to their feet.

“…Infirmary?” They asked, eyeing his swelling nose and they way he held his chest.

“Only if you’re going too dear.” He laughed and they shook their head. 

“I didn’t get my ass handed to me just now.” They replied with a raised eyebrow.

“Hey now, I gave as good as I got.”

“I’m not the one who looked like they got jumped.” 

“You’re in denial dear.”

“Call me dear one more time, DOLL.”

“Owch babe.”

From the direction of the door they heard one of the boys call out, “Just get married already!” 

To Gladio’s shock, they called back, “Fine!”

“What?”

“Gladio, will you marry me?”

“Uh….” He couldn’t think of a more eloquent response. But then he figured they were joking and grinned. “Sure why not? And you two punks aren’t invited!”

“GLADIO NOOOO.” They heard a whine.

“Prom, lets get out of here now.” The prince was laughing, and they heard THREE sets of footsteps leave.

They both chuckled and went to retrieve their things. But there, they fell into a loaded silence. He wanted to ask them what that was about, but didn’t dare. If they had only been joking, he’d be crushed, but they’d still be dating and maybe it would be a reality one day. But if he brought it up would that seem like he was taking things too fast? Would they be? He’d like to think that they would be married one day…

“Eos to Gladio?” They called, and snapped him out of his thoughts.

“Oh, yeah?” He turned toward them and froze when they took his hands in theirs slowly.

“I was actually serious.” 

He blinked. And then he blinked again. Then heat rushed to his face as he looked them in the eye. “Uh…w-what do you mean.”

“I’d been trying to ask you ever since this morning with Cor… Which, by the way, we should thank him somewhere down the line.”

“Why?” His voice was soft, but he didn’t break eye contact. 

“Well…we sort of got to speaking, because he’d heard about our relationship I guess. And wanted to know how long we’d been going out.” They squeezed his hands. 

Honestly, he wasn’t really sure this was happening. Maybe he had read WAY too many romances lately and this was a dream. But he really really hoped it wasn’t. “And?”

“He brought up if I wanted to marry you.” They brought up one of his hands to their mouth to kiss his knuckles, and lowered it once more.

“What did you say?” His heart was beating in his ears, making everything seem distant.

“That I do.” 

He surged forward and kissed them, trying press into them just how much he loved them. And when they needed to pull apart to breath, he started peppering kisses all over their face. They in turn just held him close. 

“I love you, you know.” He said, his lips still pressed to their forehead. 

“I love you too.” They said. They they pulled away, a small smile on their face. “So will you? You never gave an actual answer.”

They’d hardly finished speaking before he almost shouted, “Yes.”

May I ask for short scenarios regarding the chocobros and their selectively mute s/o? Like how did their first date went and after how many dates did their s/o finally decide to talk to them? And the chocobros’ reactions to hearing their s/o’s voice?

Noctis:

Them being selectively mute was a bit hard to work around at first. Noctis, though he was more observant than he let on, had a hard time reading their facial expressions. Just because of how controlled they were. When you’re mute, a lot of your communication rests on your face, especially for those that signed like them. 

So, in order to get to know them more, he asked them to tutor him as he learned sign since he needed an extra language course to graduate. And of course, learning along side them, and being a part of their silent world, his feelings naturally progressed to a crush. When he could eventually hold a conversation in sign, proving he could understand them, he asks them out on a date. 

Like most first dates though, it was less than glamorous. 

It started raining and neither had an umbrella, so both looked like they had taken a swim on the way over to the diner they had chosen. A few rouge photographers from some of the trashier tabloids around insomnia had gotten a tip on their date, and were basically harassing them for ‘the scoop’. And then the waitress was bumped into when passing their table and ended up dumping a plate of rice on his date’s head. 

Not the best start, but it was then that he realized that they had a voice. Because they had started laughing, high and clear. They ended up not kissing on the first date, because they don’t count it. It was too much of a disaster to count as a date they argued. (But Noctis totally counts it.)

They continue dating, of course, and make it a game to see if they can keep dodging the tabloids after that first fiasco. And it’s not until six months of dating that he hears their voice outside of laughing.

They had been spending the night, and Noctis hadn’t told them that it was the anniversary of the Marilith attack. So when he started muttering in his sleep and moving a lot, they naturally woke up. A nightmare they assumed, because he kept making pained expressions. They tried to wake him by stroking his hair, and when that didn’t work, shaking his shoulder. And when that didn’t work, without meaning to or thinking about it really, they called his name.

“Noctis.”

A secret not even Ignis knew was that Noctis woke up when his name was called. Not his highness, not Noct, but Noctis. So imagine his surprise when he woke up after hearing his name, but the only person in the room was his S/O. Normally he’d ignore his name anyways and try to go back to sleep. But his curiosity would wake him fully and he’d sit up in confusion. He wouldn’t realize it was them until he hears their quiet voice in the dark.

“Noctis? You were dreaming.” 

He’d be speechless, which was a switch considering the past six month were of him talking. But then he’d snap out of it and bundle them into his arms before laying back down.

“Thank you for waking me.”

He wouldn’t make a big deal about it, but there would be a slight trembling in his arms. From love and appreciation that they had trusted him enough to finally let him hear their voice, and that they had been brave enough as well.

Prompto:

“Wow they’re a really good listener!” was his first thought when he ended up working with them on a photo shoot for his part-time. They were the lighting person. But then it would edge from being a good listener, to being unusually silent.

They’d be walking and he’d be in the middle of his sentence when he’d suddenly pause, look at them, and say, “You don’t talk, do you.”

They’d shrug and smile. Prompto would accept it, and just keep talking, but let them know, “If I talk too much, just feel free to like, put a hand over my mouth or something.” (They’ve only had to do this once.)

It would be a bumpy start to a friendship. With one party unable to speak, communication was tricky. And they didn’t want to do the pen and paper thing. So Prompto gets really good at reading facial expressions really fast. And it’s almost as good as talking. They still have the occasional hiccup, but it works.

The day Prompto asks them out, he’s rambling about a photo he took. “So I used this filter, and the lighting was perfect anyways, even without your help, and will you go on a date with me? And then I staged the camera like this-”

They put and hand over his mouth, and ended up laughing quietly. His face turned pink and they nodded, pointing to him and themself. 

“You will?” 

They’d smile. And Prompto would be ecstatic. He’d walk them home and then go skipping away practically to prepare for tomorrow. …But then he’d have to run back to their house to tell them when and where because he’d realize he forgot to tell them.

The first date wouldn’t be anything too big. It would be mostly walking around in the downtown area of Insomnia, hitting up a food cart, and making fun of some of the advertisements they see. Nothing goes very wrong, though there was a scare when a few drunkards decided to mess with someone who’s clearly an immigrant. But to that, they only glanced at each other, threw their drinks in their faces and ran, holding hands and laughing. 

Most dates were quieter after that, and he’d even bring them along to meet his friends during a few times they were hanging out. It’s after one of these times, when he’s walking them home and about to leave, that they grab his hand and quietly say, “Stay.”

Beaming brightly and sweeping them off their feet he replies, “Of course.”

For the first time in almost a year, he’s heard their voice.

Gladiolus:

Now he’s done it. He was on a run and crashed right into someone when going around the corner to his home. Their bag popped open and papers went flying everywhere. Not to mention that they had banged their head pretty hard off the ground. He’d get them up in a hurry, ignoring his own scrapes and bruises, and ask if they were alright.

They’d wave a hand at him in a general expression of being fine. But then he’d sort of get worried about them not speaking. And things would go south very quickly. Because Gladiolus would panic, thinking he’d really really hurt them. Because they weren’t SPEAKING HELP.

But at the moment his father would happen around the corner after a walk. Upon seeing the panic and general chaos of the papers fluttering around, he’d want to turn back around and just go the way he came. Take the long way home. But then he’d see who it was and realize that he’d have to step in. 

Gladio, meanwhile, would still be panicking about them not speaking. Thankfully Clarus steps in and says, “Good to see you’ve met one of the new Interns.” 

He’d then explain that they don’t speak, that yes they were fine, but probably invite them back home for an ice pack at least. And wouldn’t take no for an answer.

After that initial meeting, Gladio would find them during work the next day, apologize again, and ask if they wanted to get lunch as an apology. (And what intern would say no to free food?) From there, they sort of figure out a way to communicate. They just message him on their tablet and he’ll just respond verbally. Which opens the doors for text jokes. (It’s very endearing to Gladio that when they send an emoji expression, it’s often the very same expression they’re making right across the table from him.) It becomes habit to meet for lunch, and sometimes dinner. Without even realizing it, they end up dating. 

This is only pointed out when they run across Gladio’s friends who tease him for not telling them he was on a date. They look at each other, shrug, and he throws an arm around their shoulder and says, “Well, we are so…if you’ll excuse us.”

“But we want to meet them!” “Another time maybe!”

It’s only after their anniversary passes that he gets to hear their voice. Unfortunately, it’s because he ran into them again when they were coming over to dinner at his place with Iris. And the papers went everywhere. They hit their head again, he ended up with scrapes and bruises.

“Damn it Gladio.” It’s said so quiet, if there had been a passing car he wouldn’t have heard it. But he did.

Not the most romantic thing to hear, but Gladio laughs and scoops them off the ground. He doesn’t draw attention to it, worried that they didn’t know they had said something. And if they did mean to say something, he wouldn’t want to scare away any progress they’ve made to become vocal. He lets them go and sets about collecting their papers.

(Clarus walks around the corner again, and this time just turns on heel and goes the opposite way. Not dealing with this again.)

Ignis:

He’s heard them speak before they started dating. They had a habit of muttering to themselves while they worked. 

They were considered a valuable member of the royal house hold. They had been a child when they received their title. Like Ignis, they grew up with their role. They were to be Noctis’ Chancellor. A secretary basically. But there was no need for them to be around Noctis just yet, not until Noctis was on the throne. But Ignis worked closely with them. There was a lot of paper work involved with Noctis surprisingly. He just didn’t know it because that was their job. 

Though Ignis had to be there for a portion of it. Which is how he’d heard them. He’d be walking by the door and catch some of their thoughts they spoke out loud before knocking. (He knew their reputation of never speaking, and so didn’t bring it up.) And he wouldn’t let on that he heard them.

There were many times that they ended up eating together, lunch, dinner, overnight snacks, breakfast. Just depended on how much trouble Noctis had gotten into that week. Ignis, having worked with them for so long, knew sign and enjoyed their silent conversations together. It also helped at certain events Noctis was at, and they were more than willing to help Ignis hide or prevent the prince’s mistakes if it meant less paperwork. Eventually, they would be comfortable enough to mutter to themselves with him in the room.

He invites them to an actual dinner outside the citadel soon enough and they accept. From there, they’re really low key about it, if only to avoid becoming the citadel’s latest gossip. It goes on for about a year like this before they’re at an event. There’s a really pushy noble trying to ask out Ignis, and he’s declining as politely as he can. And considering he’s cornered with a lot of other nobles in the conversation, he can’t just walk away without appearing rude.

That’s when they step in and link their arm with his, smile and state quietly, softly, “He’s mine.”

They’d then pull him away while they’re in shock. Ignis would be red in the face, but only because he hadn’t expected the first thing they said in public, since they were a child even, to be that he was theirs. It would make him a bit more happy than it should. They’d sign to him that it’ll be all over the citadel tomorrow, but they’d deal with it then. He’d agree, and leave it at that for once. 

Chocobros’ s/o manipulating them into betraying Noctis/Lucis and serving Niflheim? How does it happen and how quickly they realize they’re being manipulated (if ever)?

Prompto:

His S/O would call him everyday. Whisper sweet nothings. Keep him wrapped around their little finger and ask questions that normally, he wouldn’t answer due to safety concerns. But he loved them. And they loved him, so he was sure he could trust them. He’d let slip plans and time frames of where the group is going, what they’ll be doing, and where they were heading after that. Just stuff you’d tell a lover honestly. From this, over time, the S/O would be able to chart preferred routes and coordinate where drops ships can ambush them. 

That’s all that was asked of Prompto’s lover. They don’t tell Prompto, and he doesn’t ever realize it. No, instead with their job done, they break up with him, citing that long distance really wasn’t their thing. (But even they think it would be cruel to tell him that he had helped the enemy. They’d broken his heart enough.)

Gladiolus: 

They’d be right beside him the whole time. They’d encourage his irritability and whisper doubts about Noctis’ abilities, picking up on the shield’s own doubt about his king. But they ‘knew’ that Gladio could handle what Noctis didn’t right? He could protect them all if it came to it, right? With their manipulation, would become overbearing. Out of sync with the rest of the group. Worried about his own worth as the prince’s shield and the protector of his friends. Reckless on the battle field. It’d be all to easy to get the drop on them now.

The final nail would be their own injury. They’d let themself get back into a corner by an MT, damaged beyond returning to the field with them. Ever. It would hurt Gladio that he failed to protect one of the people he cared about in the world. And in this way they would crack the shield. He, likewise, doesn’t realize he was manipulated. (But there would be this feeling on the back of his neck, like he missed something, or that something with these past few months was wrong. Something didn’t quite…fit.) This was only to buy time, because they knew the group would eventually work it out. But the time they won from them would help the empire plan and move against them. And it’d be enough for their duty to be done. 

Ignis:

He’d be the one to realize it right away. And the S/O would know he knows. And it’s be this weird dance around each other, neither one letting the other get the upper hand. Because they actually like each other. And Ignis would be sure he can keep this under control. And he does. He wants their attention on him and him alone. And in the S/Os mind, they’d have to get past Ignis before anything else could be done with the boys.

Nothing comes of their work. Because they’d failed the moment Ignis noticed, and if they were being honest with themselves, they’d be killed for their failure. So just a little longer, and just a little more with Ignis. Because they were happy in their own way. Knowing they’d failed there was nothing to lose. So they’d enjoy his attention for a little longer.

But then the dance ended, and so they went to their fate. 

Can I ask for a scenario with any of the boys in a Queer-platonic relationship with an ace s/o?

Anon dear, I’ll do my best. It’s my usual weird mix of headcanon and scenario instead I’m afraid. Please tell me if this turns out alright. I’ve sort of tried to capture what this kind of relationship would be like by experimenting…By which I mean I ended up writing for more than one person. I hope this is alright. I mostly assumed that they get their physical needs taken care of in other ways. But I didn’t want to elaborate on that too much. (For all i know maybe they’re all ace.)

Noctis:

He’d sit beside them on the couch, resting against one another in a calm silence, and holding each other’s hand. The TV was on, playing a radio station rather than a channel. It served to drowned out both their thoughts. It had been a bad day. And on those days, they needed each other. 

This was their ritual. Something they never spoke about with each other, but just sort of occurred. They trusted each other wholly with their mental wounds. Their need for a quiet solitude with another. They knew that they weren’t listening to the music playing, but rather one another’s breathing. They needed the other’s grounding presence.

If someone walked in on the sight, it could have been mistake for a romantic moment between two lovers. But romance had no place among them. No. It was just the feeling of the other nearby. A trust. Not attraction, but a feeling that if it wasn’t precisely this person there with them, it wouldn’t feel right. 

A shelter for the dark. Nothing more, nothing less.

Prompto:

With Prompto, things would be a lot more easy to mistake for romance. And a lot more tactile. He’d help fix their hair just to feel close to them, and they would play with the strands of his through out the day. They might lay their head on his chest to hear his heart beat, while he would nuzzle into their hair and sleep. They’d play with each other’s hand when they’re distracted, brush against each other’s thighs when they want their attention for something, link arms when walking together, and just genuinely lack a need for personal space between the two of them.

People often ask them why they aren’t dating already, but they always, each other them, have the same answer. “It’s not like that.”

Because it isn’t. This isn’t love. Not in the way one would expect. This was more of a need fulfilled. They cherished this person, no one else understood their needs. It wasn’t romance. It wasn’t friendship. It was some unknown between the two. 

It was comfort and closeness. And it was enough.

Gladio:

Helping the other relax after a long day is normal for them. Massaging tense muscles when they don’t really allow people to touch them. If one of them was sore it wouldn’t be odd for them to help the other undress if they couldn’t manage it themselves. Sleeping in the same bed, couch, or using each other as a pillow was likewise normal. Seeing each other at their most vulnerable, being able to face each other unblinkingly during the moments they couldn’t stand someone else’s stare, watching over each other’s shoulders were all normal to them.

But nothing beyond that. Closeness was what they valued in one another. Someone who’d always have their back through everything and anything. 

Sometimes, they’d be afraid that they’d get too old for anyone to understand this. “Call it what it is, you’re in love.” 

But they’re not. This was something else. A choice. This person was their person. They didn’t have the word for it, but they didn’t desire one another how other people did. It was just the sense of a missing piece finally coming home. 

Ignis:

This is a relationship of space and intimacy. They don’t need to be near each other, but rather look after one another in other ways. They sleep in separate beds to allow the other their privacy. He’ll make sure they have lunch, they make sure he has clean clothes. Things they were perfectly capable of dealing with on their own, but chose to do for one another. They cook together and are much more free with their emotions around one another. (They’re one of the very rare people who have heard Ignis laugh to tears.) They ensure the other’s appearance is perfect for special events. They walk together at work, and leave notes for the other asking if they’ve eaten. (There are very rare times of course, when one of them cries. And the other doesn’t judge them. They only hold them through the whole thing until they settle again.) They just take care of each other. Even though they don’t have to. 

People comment on how chilly they are together. They won’t last if they ever get together. They just share a knowing glance and continue on with their day. They know themselves better than anyone else, and know that their care is shown through their actions.

They could live without one another, but why would they?

Ravus: 

He sends letters through out the relationship, venting mostly, and sometimes commenting on how he saw them the other day, but didn’t have time to go to talk to them. They in turn write back what they’ve learned and how their own training is going. They’ll make general yet. When they have time, they train together. Fighting one on one until one of them submits. (Neither ever does. It’s time spent together and they want it to last.) At the end of the session they sit back to back for as long as they can get away with, without someone finding out. 

They’re not ashamed of one another, but it’s safer if no one knows. They know this is not love, but they also know they would miss the other into eternity if they were gone. This was safer to let no one know.

They depart and go back to letters. For most people this isn’t enough. They need contact and the person to be there with them. But neither of them need those things. They just need the other’s understanding. The knowledge that someone is there, listening. 

It’s enough, and more than they could ever have asked for.