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LET'S PLAY {open post}
[ open. texts, messages, rp prompts and starters. gen & nsfw. ]
[ open. texts, messages, rp prompts and starters. gen & nsfw. ]
[ open. texts, messages, rp prompts and starters. gen & nsfw. ]
[ open. texts, messages, rp prompts and starters. gen & nsfw. ]
i uploaded all my ignis icons to my fucking noct journal so i guess this is ignis right now
I LOVE YOU
This one?
<3 also lmf just makes shit up about tech
lmoasdjkhf LOOK THIS IS PERF
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waves hand at timeline IT'S ALL BULLSHIT
WE MAKE OUR OWN STORIES
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Catchall
☠ Time travel - Noct comes out of the crystal to some sort of age shenanigans where one of them has time traveled
☠ Ignis giving Noct orders + praisekink + "princess" + bratty Noctis + crossdressing
☠ Sparring except sparring turns into whoops we're making out and having sex on the sparring mats.
☠ magic sharing
SICK + nightmares
He'd never been particularly sickly, either; health was something he was blessed with, and the one time something serious happened, Noctis defied all the odds, the Gods themselves and healed him. It makes being ill now all the more insulting. On some level, it's sweet that Noct has gone through all this trouble to ensure that he's unable to work while he's ill. On another, it's infuriating and all he wants to do is something useful, something other than lying in bed, feverish and disgusting, staring at books until the words swim.
Day one is fine - not fun, but passable. Day two, the fever spikes and he alternates between chills and being overwhelmingly hot, unable to find a balance. Day three, he's bedridden save for the bathroom and the walk he makes himself take around the King's room, mostly to prove that he can. Day three, Noctis comes back having gotten over the sickness nearly a week ago and Ignis gives him a bleary look through the mess of his sweat-damp fringe and sits up to greet him. He eats the soup he's given and blessedly doesn't puke, even managing a cool bath, despite sagging off of Noctis when he's unable to wobble there himself.
Thankfully, it's an early night for both of them. He asks Noctis if he's eaten (forgetting they'd eaten together a mere hour ago) and takes the medication he's given, sleepily protesting them cuddling but not strong enough to do anything about it. In the end, sleep wins out quickly and Ignis rests, curled on his side, a hand resting on top of Noct's chest.
When he wakes, he has no idea what hour it is, but instead of the grating of the floor holding the Crystal, it's softer. He aches, just like he's escaped a battle but this time: he can see. ]
Noct--
[ It's a sleep-fuzzy slur, the vowel rounded awkwardly in his mouth with exhaustion and he gropes around, trying to figure out where Noct is, where any of them are. A moment later, he realizes: Noct's lying still next to him, pale in the light of the moon bleeding through the window. There, the proof is right there. Noctis dead, the moonlight illuminating the bloodied sheets underneath him, pale and still, hair mussed.
There's no stopping the distressed, horrible noise that's dragged out of him, more animal than human at that point. ]
Noctis, Noct-- no, I stopped-- it was me, I-
[ They were supposed to take me, he can't articulate. Fumbling, he reaches for the ring but it's not on his fingers and when he goes for Noct's it's not there, either. ]
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more ideas ripped from our plurk dm
☠ Cute I miss you when you're traveling featuring Ignis leaving pre-cooked meals and texting/calling every night/morning and Noctis texting him throughout the day
☠ Ardyn possesses Noctis as a sort of final plan/fall back. Ignis has to kill Noctis to save the world but they revive his body moments later. There was no guarantee that it would work; Noctis ends up in a coma for a week and Ignis is nearly under arrest from the Glaive for killing the king. Noct wakes up a week later right on time; Ignis was about to get his ass kicked by the Glaive.
leaving.
The mortal wound that Noctis had expressly bid Ignis to inflict on him is on its way to healing -- and while Noctis is still weak, he's become stronger under Ignis' care. His beloved, faithful even when Noctis demanded from him the impossible, who saved his life (and everyone else's), still cares so tirelessly for him despite having nearly been executed for his trouble, and Noctis doesn't even have the most remote idea of how to thank him.
How do you thank someone you are so impossibly indebted to, how do you begin to reciprocate? A furious Noctis had wrought hell upon his glaives as soon as he was conscious, enraged despite the fact that he could barely stand, and it would have almost been comical if it wasn't so dire, the fact that the king, in his flimsy hospital robes and barely able to stand, had put himself in between his injured lover and his troop of glaives decked out in full combat gear, putting the fear of the gods in them.
But they are past that now, Ignis restored and his name cleared, Noctis ensuring that he receives the highest of honours, even though it's always bothered Noctis how Ignis barely even put up a struggle when the man would logically have given the glaives an extremely hard time if he wanted to.
It means guilt, the king knows. It means Ignis bears a weight no one else can dream of ensuring. It means that Noctis has to fix this, too. Neither of them came out of the ordeal unscathed, and so many of Ignis' wounds are where he cannot see them.
Presently, he's tiredly nuzzling Ignis before his departure. His forehead is clammy, he's still pale and sleeps more than he usually does, having expended so much of negligible strength defending Ignis days ago, fiercely protective; and it's only after clearing his name and enacting a decree that Ignis is to be accorded the kingdom's highest honours that he collapsed in the hallway upon the conclusion of the session, carefully out of sight of his officials. He had been carried to his chambers, and had slept for hours after that. His beloved had not left his side since, and Noctis aches with sympathy. ]
You'll be late if you don't leave soon. I hear they've prepared a room in the ship for you.
[ And Ignis will finally be able to rest then. ]
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ws!AU
They fight daemons, they learn to live in the dark, and while he's been fighting at a disadvantage it was never too much until the moment that it was. The end comes and it's terribly anti-climatic, all things considered. A daemon cuts through him like he's paper; he's distantly aware of Gladiolus and Prompto screaming his name but it doesn't matter; he tumbles down the edge of a cliff, falls into the water and then: nothing.
Distantly, he can recall bits and pieces. Nothing about who he is, or what's happening, but there's a man who gives him orders and that's...familiar. He may not be able to see the enemies he fights but he doesn't need to. Ardyn gives him the power to defeat his enemies and bring back the light. Whoever these people are that want to keep the world plunged into darkness can't be permitted to stop Ardyn when he's the only one trying to fix it. There's...something off about all of it, of course, but it isn't as if he remembers and Ardyn seems to care, which is enough. Bits and pieces come to him here and there but none of them make sense and they wash away as easily as anything; it doesn't matter. Ardyn is the King who is supposed to bring back the dawn and that's what Ignis is supposed to help with.
The next time he wakes, Ardyn equips him with daggers that feel familiar in the oddest of ways and then he's out again, promised that when he wakes, he'll be able to fight the one who's threatening the rest of the world, he'll be able to fix this. It's probable he won't win, but it's been a long ten years and he's...tired. Ardyn's no doubt sensed it; he feels like he's fading with each fight and to know that win or lose, this one is just a step in the right direction is enough.
The man -- his enemy cuts him down and wakes him; Ignis can't tell who he is at first, disoriented and trying to claw his way up from the fuzziness that comes from being put under, being made to rest when he needs to. It's not Ardyn who's woken him, it's someone else and there's the oddest sense of magic at the edge of his senses. He's aware of not just his daggers, but a dozen other weapons and they're all at his fingertips, along with the flicker of magic that feels right but he can't recall ever using it with Ardyn ordering him about.
Him, Ardyn whispers in his ear and Ignis sits up, holding back the urge to summon his daggers, curious. What sort of man is fool enough to go against Ardyn - what sort of man wants to keep the world plunged into darkness? Talking was never part of the instructions, but he wants to know. ]
I do hope you know what you're getting into.
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Humanity, it seems, are far more resilient than they give themselves credit for. Even with daemons overrunning the entire damn place, there are still pockets of the resistance, of people fighting to survive in the decade that's passed.
But what Noctis hears from Gladio and Prompto breaks his heart -- Ignis, as they know him to be, is gone; a daemon had a pretty good day and Ignis had a bad, bad one, and for the past ten years, the two had been fighting to get him back, fighting against an approximation of him, a twisted version Ardyn had corrupted for himself in some sick game, and Noctis forgets to breathe. Ignis, his oldest, most loyal; the one man he loved above all else, and the one Ardyn chose to take and corrupt for himself.
Noctis doesn't wait. He cannot, not when he knows that Ignis, whatever's left of him, is waiting for him in the Citadel. Perhaps Ardyn had seen him as collateral, insurance to ensure his arrival, or perhaps Ardyn knew what Ignis had really meant to him, and simply sought to twist the knife -- enact some sort of dramatic tragedy for the final act, as it were.
He succeeds.
Noctis cuts him down and wakes him, staring in horror and heartbreak at what he's become. The letters Ignis wrote him is tucked inside his shirt, against his heart. Gladio had given them to him before they left, and Noctis had read each one of them so often and so thoroughly that he knows each one by heart.
His Ignis, he thinks. His Ignis is here. He can feel the trickle of magic, a flutter of connection, faint but present, like butterfly's wings. His blade dissipates as he walks over to Ignis, crouches before him and tries to bite back a swell of emotion, intense and overwhelming. He won't raise his blade to him; he cannot. Maybe Ardyn knew exactly what the fuck he intended to do, after all. ]
Iggy. [ He says quietly, because he knows what the hell he's getting into. ] It's me, Noct.
[ Gladio and Prompto said there's little more that can be done for Ignis now, who had slaughtered so many in Ardyn's name, who had displayed no signs of recognition no matter how they tried. He has to try. He has to, because the alternative is unthinkable. ] You know me. You've known me all your life.
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MORE
☠ Ignis/Noct proposing to each other like massive fucking romantic nerds
☠ Noct ends up doped up on pain medication after something happens, which results in the "oh my god, oh my GOD WE'RE MARRIED YOU MARRIED ME???? I'M A PRINCE?" style reaction
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Give it another five or six years, maybe, but three years wasn't enough to have every little thing up and running despite best efforts, so Ignis leaves it alone. Prince Consort to King Consort. His parents had huge things in mind for him but marrying his charge probably wasn't one of them. Then again, they were long since gone along, so it didn't quite matter. Losing people was common over the last few years; he never got used to it, but there was a sense of finality to it.
The one unacceptable loss was always Noctis. He'd done everything possible to save him, every single time, and they'd made it through. That's what made this particularly frustrating. He wasn't deathly injured, but he was unable to heal himself, whatever he'd touched had drained his magic for at least a few days rendering potions and phoenix down useless. A last parting gift from Ardyn, apparently, or one they had been given and never used. Either way, it meant that he had no magic to heal himself so what normally would be a simple injury to heal turns into an ordeal.
They return to the Citadel and Noctis is pushed into surgery, which is blessedly short. When it's over, they warn that the painkillers they had to use were strong and it's entirely likely that Noctis is going to be a little bit unsteady for the next couple days while he recovers. Ignis is given firm instructions to give him the pills whenever he starts feeling pain, not to exceed four times a day, and to keep him on bed rest. He can go to the bathroom and have a sponge bath, but other than that, he shouldn't be leaving it.
Best news Noct'll hear all day, Gladiolus says gruffly, though he's spent the entire time waiting with Ignis, just as worried.
Noctis ends up settled in his bed rather than a hospital one; they bring everything in and hook it all up but he's connected to blessedly few monitors, considering. When it's done, all that's left is to wait for him to wake and upon the first stirrings, Ignis leans over, stroking his fingers over Noctis' face gently. ]
Easy. There's no rush.
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setting this in the au where he can see fuck u ffxv
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it is i the charliest fry / gimme some optimistic post-game fluff
minsu.
Whoa, whoa, what kind of a --
[ Yes. Yes, he does, and Noctis finds himself backed against the wall beside the door when Min advances, so much like a wolf stalking prey. There's a light in his eyes that he appreciates, reaching out to curl his fingers over the front of his shirt when he presses right up against him. Minsu is very dangerous, he knows this, as mysterious as he is bold, and even now he still knows precious little of what he really is. ]
You look like the type girls can take home to their mother. [ Because no, he's not giving it up that easy, buddy. There's the smallest tug at the side of his mouth, a wicked glint in his eye. ] Jeez, do you just hate personal space?
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[it was a deliberate choice on his part, trying to embody a little bit of everything for everyone, broad shoulders and tan skin, a boyish smile and a handsome face. he thought of everything, once. but lately he can only think of one thing, and it's right here in front of him. being this close to him just drowns out everything else.]
Yes.
[minsu's too preoccupied to lie, or even dress the truth up in slick words. he tips his head, eyes lidded as he breathes along the side of his neck. there is no difference between princes and beggars, he's seen the blood of both and it's just as red. but there is a difference between noctis and everyone, at least to minsu.
and that's why he wants to be careful with him.]
Do you not like it? [his advance stops. he's started to learn when he's doing something that isn't normal, isn't human. and while he's also learning the delightful difference between the quickened heartbeat of fear and something else, he's started exercising more caution.] I'll stop if you tell me to.
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for regalblaze.
[ Very, very busy, but it's worth the seventeen errands he ran -- six in which he almost died, which was the deciding factor in the bartender loaning out this floor for them -- and because Noctis had very politely insisted on it being his only remuneration for the errands. ]
Yeah, it was a pain, but.
[ Noctis shrugs breezily, casual because Ignis doesn't need to know the lengths he went to to make this a successful one. He's looking down at their hands when Ignis squeezes in turn, his heart leaping into his throat in the worst possible way, and then he's only looking at him, nevermind that he's missing such an incredible show because his adviser isn't pulling away. No, he just squeezed his hand, and Noctis is vaguely aware that he's being a stupid teenager about all of this.
And yet. ] You really like 'em, huh?
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For now.
Ignis can feel Noct's eyes on him but he decidedly keeps his gaze on the fireworks. It is ridiculous, this spur of a moment thing but Ignis can't help but love every second of it.]
I don't know. [Ignis says slowly.] I can't decide which one I like more- the fireworks or the company.
[...maybe he shouldn't run his mouth like this.]
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coughs
shit i love this!
But things never really go according to plan, and really, how can it when the players in question are young adults who are recklessly in love, and seem to be positively allergic to keeping their hands off each other? They've skirted the whole exhibitionism thing frequently -- Noctis has discovered that he has a taste for it, and so does Serah; sweetly innocent, incredibly sexy, and blessedly adventurous when it comes to sex. He's lost track of just how many places they've had sex in, quickies in dressing rooms, the occasional bathroom, and one memorable time in a movie theater (that had taken some creative maneuvering).
But not here. Not right out here in the open, when Serah's right here on his lap, gorgeous and stunning and wearing his jacket with her knees straddling either side of him, her mouth like sin, hungry and wanting and setting all of Noctis' desires alight.
He's hard in his jeans, pressing up against her, and he's sparing a glance at the other couples, who are thankfully wrapped up in their other halves all around them. Small blessings, he thinks giddily, his hand sliding between them, intending to tease, to draw it out. What he feels, however, is not the fabric of her underwear, not the lace she favors -- ]
Serah.
[ He says, surprised, strained, and definitely turned on. His thumb brushes against her, rubs up against the bud of her clit underneath her skirt, and his breath catches. He's leaning forward then, surprise becoming pleasure becoming mischief, and he whispers in her ear. ] You're already this wet for me?
i knew you had good taste
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i am sorely lacking in actual dressing room smut gifs so we'll go with close enoughs
( The single most powerful element of youth is that you don't have the life experiences to know what can't be done. )
THIS IS PERF
The dressing room is large and posh, locked with a plush couch on one end, a dresser with a half-mirror, and a full length mirror on the other side. All meticulously planned and arranged, of course, and right now, his beautiful, lovely girlfriend is trying on a delectable set of underwear -- almost see-through, and this, he thinks, is one of his favorite ways to shop. His beautiful girlfriend's body right here before him, clad in beautiful pieces that seem to be made specially for her, and he comes over to her at this one, teasing at the small flowers at the bottom, realizing just how it doesn't hide her at all. He traces his fingers over to that cute little slit, gently nudging to feel that perfect little bud, and he can't help but murmur. ]
I think I like this one, too. I can see just about everything.
:D
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( Well, he's earned that ego with regards to his skill, and Serah gasps lightly at the grip of his hand against her breast, her own fingers curling into the curve of his ass, pulling his hips flush against hers, grinding against him. One of the many, many things that has come from this relationship is the simple fact that underwear has become largely optional for Serah, something which exists either to arouse them both or just get in the way.
Today was the latter, so she skipped it. And that certainly seems to be paying off now, as her breath comes hot and heavy against his neck, teeth grazing the skin there. )
I can do that now, if you want.
( There's nothing Serah doesn't love when it comes to spending time with him. )
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[ He nuzzles her, warmed by how she's always just as eager to do this together with him, when all kinds of decorum is discarded and all that's left are two young adults desperately in love with each other.
He utters a low groan when she's grinding against him, and his fingers shift from her breast to tease her, pressing against the soft little folds of her and spreading them. He's rubbing gentle circles against her clit, happy to see that she's once again gone without underwear -- ]
Want me to fuck you here...? Think I've been hard for the past hour --
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U kno what this is
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There is something for everyone here, from the most vanilla to the most kinky, shamelessly celebrating the blatant excesses of riches and overflowing with money, wealth and power. This is where the elite come to play, under masks and with soft words, and here Noctis is, entering with his lover and (for tonight, plaything). He comes in an impeccably tailored suit, and her, in nothing but a translucent, figure-hugging dress that leaves nothing to the imagination when her expensive fur coat is taken from her. She wears a diamond-studded collar that he's fastened on her neck, a vibrator tucked up inside her and cum glistening on her thighs.
He had, of course, sampled her in the limousine on the way here, and he's leading her into the party with a leash, fancy eyemasks obscuring their features and keeping their identities private. Here, they can play, they can do any damn thing they want -- and here, his beautiful, lovely girl can be shown off to everyone. He kisses her in full view of the others; there might be other nude men and women moving about, but his eyes are only on her.
Reaching behind, he's pulling the zipper of her dress down. ]
Out of your clothes, babe. You don't need that now. [ He's heading over to one of the booths, evidently meeting some of the other masked men and settling in, legs apart for Serah to take her cue. There are two other (one male, one female) between the legs of his new companions, clad in the tiniest glittering loincloths and dutifully sucking cock, obscene wet sounds underlining the soft, sensuous beat of the club. ]
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— dude she was giving me head and stops and looks up at me and tells me she loves me, then goes "alright now cum in my mouth"... pretty sure she's the one.
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What's important is that his dick's super hard, Serah's between his knees, her lips wet and swollen and she's evidently very hard at work at trying to make him come, and that she'd taken a quick breather to tell him that she loves him.
He blinks, surprised, because saying that while sucking cock is unheard of, no matter how much Noctis loves and adores her. ]
Yeah?
[ Also, important question: did she say that to him or his penis? ]
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ugh i missed their filth. <3
ME TOO UGH <3
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well, he's bored, to be honest. luckily, fate put noctis' chair directly across from his, so.
in the middle of the meeting somewhere, the tip of his boot sneaks up noctis' calf inquiringly, although he really doesn't ask permission as he nudges noctis' knee to the side, pointedly parting his legs. he carries on whatever talk he's currently having with noctis' father about the missions he's been on, the places he's seen. everyone is none the wiser to the sole of his boot pressing firmly down on noctis' groin, heel just resting against his balls as he turns his ankle in gentle circles, working his cock as subtly as he can, while still having an end goal of getting him hard. if he's lucky, getting him off, though - he guesses that might be sort of a stretch.
hunk prepared a snack from some far off planet for them to enjoy, because food has always been the bridge between cultures, and is usually a strong selling point for union. it's something like ice cream, but flavored more like aloe and mint - keith takes a bite and hums around it, nodding to noctis. )
Prince Noctis, do you like it?
( he hasn't even tried it, and keith is pretty sure he knows why. )
It's a delicacy from Joyeium.
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actually, screw that, noctis isn't listening. he might be pretending to, but that particular trait is borne from years of exquisite and thoughtful honing of the skill of faking attentiveness while people drone on and on. he gets the important gist of it, of course, enough to make meaningful input where there's a chance for him to, but consider him checked out and all blood going right where keith has a foot against his balls and is using that boot to get him at attention.
his cock is straining so painfully against his fitted trousers, and he swears he's probably flushed because clarus had once asked if he was fine, and noctis couldn't be more mortified. he'd managed to focus, just a little, until the hyperawareness of that damnable boot up in his family jewels just makes him shudder, just a little. noctis doesn't even look at him, doesn't care that he's so fucking sexy right across the table, with that handsome face and that scar and the filthy things he's doing to him in front of everyone here --
-- fuck that, that's all he's thinking about.
it's hot, is what it is, and noctis barely registers the aloe and mint and how he pretty much hates both those things (but he has to eat them anyway, and so he does). he swallows hard, and the council assumes that it's noctis' ingrained hatred of all things not meat that's at work, and not the sheer fact that he has a raging hard on for the leader of the paladins sitting across from him.
that, too, is so fucking hot he hates every moment of it. but then keith, damn keith, his boy, his lover, the man responsible for noctis' mounting arousal and resulting sexual frustration, is maddeningly neutral, and out of some sheer spiteful sense of vengeance -- listen, when all the blood goes to your cock it's hard to be rational -- he simply bites into the delicacy like it's personally done him wrong. ]
It's delicious.
[ he hates that he sound more hoarse and rough than he likes. actually, he can barely tell the flavor of it through every instinct in his brain roaring at him to grab keith by the shoulders and dragging him across the table to pretty much fuck him on that flat surface and --
-- okay, okay. calm. ]
Thank you.
[ but then the conversation swirls around them again, and it's half an hour later that the meeting finally concludes. noctis, however, is sitting right there at his seat when the delegates and his own people start to shake hands and leave. there's lunch planned at the dining room, and it's been a long meeting. ]
Mr. Kogane. A moment, please.
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space time difference.
the mission changed like missions always do. complications arise and pidge is the one who does the math, who says that they're going to spend two years rezail-time righting the wrong of the galran empire on a this planet - clearing the troops, saving the people, getting control back in the power of the rezailians. in earth time? it'll be a month. one month, noctis will be missing him. it's not unusual, and it's even kind of gracious for how long they've spent away from each other before - keith supposes it's better than the other way, if it felt like a month to him and noctis was alone for two years, without word of contact. it's not like he can send a message during the attack, so he sends one out to noctis before the comms go dark to the outside world. i love you, i'll see you soon, and then he goes under.
two years is a long time. the battle itself eats up two thirds of the time, and the rest of it is just culturing the planet to house the people joining voltron's coalition. he thinks about noctis every day. every single day. the gemstone noctis had turned into a matching pair of necklaces for them finds a permanent home wrapped around keith's neck and becomes his religion, his nightly ritual - running his thumb against it, dreaming of what he hopes he has waiting for him on the other side of the mission. he won't hate noctis if he moved on. two years is a long time, and it feels like it's been forever since he's seen him, touched him, heard the sound of his laughter, or felt the burn of his blushes on the tips of his fingers. a rezailian woman offers to help keith ease the pain of distance, but keith rejects her. he knows who his heart belongs to, and recooperation has never been a factor in the way it leans. if he comes back and noctis is engaged, he will go to his wedding and find it in his heart to be happy for him. but.
it's only been a month, to him. keith has to keep reminding himself that. on cold nights when he's dreaming about arms wrapping around him, about those arms being wrapped around someone else - it's only been a month. noctis wouldn't replace him that fast.
he's always been like an anchor for keith, but now it's more than ever. when the mission finishes and the paladins of voltron find themselves back up in space, they separate for a needed time of refuge - none of them have seen anyone for years, and they have to go make their peace with the fact that the world has been left basically untouched since they left it. everyone goes to their family - allura to lance's. keith goes to noctis.
he's standing in his room, everything exactly the way he remembers it, all that time ago. keith is what sticks out like a sore thumb - taller now, thicker with muscle, more afflicted with scars that used to be concentrated to certain areas, now spread throughout his entire body. his hair is longer, swept into a braid that rests on top his shoulder, ending somewhere near his waist. his clothes are tight fitted and befitting that of a soldier, lean and accentuating his muscular, if slightly malnourished, form. he doesn't wear sleeves, and on one arm is the blade of marmora's symbol, tattooed into his flesh.
keith just waits, idly picking through noctis' dresser, touching softly all the things he remembers, every gift he ever gave noctis displayed like trophies on his window pane. despite everything, he's not really nervous. it's been a long two years, and there's nothing in this universe that would keep him one more day away from noctis. )
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he sets a countdown when keith leaves his side to do the right thing, the heroic thing -- paladins of voltron are stalwart guardians of the universe, defenders against evil and darkness, and keith leads them. noctis understands the price that kind of obligation and duty extracts out of him and the ones he loves, and noctis is ever by his side, even if he can't be physically there.
he looks out at the stars every night, thinking he could simply sense him among them even though he knows it's impossible, that he would be out of their galaxy by now, millions of light years away. it causes him anxiety sometimes, the fear that keith would get hurt and noctis would be too far to reach him, that he could perhaps will his magic to help him, somehow. he rubs at the jeweled pendant until he fears he'd rub the stone raw even if it's impossible, quietly fretting.
those were bad days, days when noctis can hardly get a wink of sleep, running through every possible scenario in his mind. the better days, he stays awake missing him, longing set so intensely in his chest he fears he would burst from the intensity of it.
one month is a long time. one month is thirty days is seven hundred and twenty hours is two point five nine million seconds that noctis will reach out and find nothing save for memories, when keith's clandestine side of his bed grows cold and all noctis has to comfort himself is a jacket he's pilfered, the fading scent of him on the pillows.
he sleeps with the pillow, every night.
today is the day keith comes home, noctis has it marked down right to the second, and he's immediately out of the royal entourage like a shot once the hundredth meeting of the day concludes.
keith is home. keith has to be. noctis has shown him the secret passageway leading to his chambers, his private quarters high above overlooking all of insomnia, the glittering crown city of the lucian empire. never has a second stretched to an eternity when he opens and shuts the doors and crosses over to the inner sanctum, the bedroom that they share.
and there he is, like one of the many dreams that noctis has -- how can he possibly have eyes for another, when keith haunts him so, when he's the only one who has his heart? noctis is loyal, single-mindedly so; the one who has his love will have it to the end of his days, which is perhaps why ignis has never quite approved of them. one day keith could leave and never return, and take with him the prince's heart. noctis loves too much, too fiercely, soft underneath the cool veneer of dispassionate neutrality.
and here, here is the man that he loves, the one he's waited all thirty days for, and he smiles, bright as the sun as he steps in, delighted to see him again.
however -- ]
Whoa, I didn't know your hair grew that long that quickly.
[ -- he comments, coming over to him as he blinks, taking quick but thorough inventory of his boyfriend, folding up the sleeves of his own black shirt and tugging his tie loose to relax. ]
And... is it me? Did you get bigger? [ and definitely hotter. and older. his eyes go from that incredible, muscular body (he's definitely worked out) to the scars, the tattoo. his smile fades to something confused. ] That tattoo, those scars --
[ how did he change so much in just thirty days? ]
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warphero.
[ dammit nyx HE WISHES HE COULD QUIT YOU (no he doesn't) ]
im going to enjoy that punishment
are you gonna lick the taste of you out of my mouth when you fuck me?
because im gonna swallow every drop of you the way i did in the elevator last night
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Oh yes, and it's not all I'm gonna be licking
you looked so hot doing that.. it's all that's keeping me going until I can see you again
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threesome!
they're on a mini vacation off of eos, stuck on the party planet omega, loosely grinding together to the beat of alien music. noctis' hands are on his hips and keith is rubbing against him, one hand cupping the back of his neck to keep his mouth on his shoulder. it's all a bit of a blur, between sweaty bodies and the alcohol slipping through his veins. a handsome man, humanoid but clearly other, comes up to dance on keith's front, actively sandwiching him between two like bodies. keith, lazily drunk as he is, tilts his head back to watch him, see how his body moves, what he likes to do. his fingers cling on noctis' waist, pulling all of them snugly together, and when he kisses keith, he doesn't fight it. wary looks shared with noctis bring on an expression of intrigue and almost excitement, and then they're all kissing, languidly moving together, keith sucking the stranger's neck while he in turn kisses noctis.
it's fluid, after then. dragging the stranger ( who they learn is named zen in between heavy pets and panting breaths ) towards their rented hotel room, locking the door behind them. keith is still sandwiched in the middle, although zen is quick to toss him on the bed while noctis assaults his neck, and. that's fine. noctis can want to fuck someone else. keith tells himself he's okay with it, watching them kiss with something like a pit in his stomach. it doesn't mean anything. it's just sex.
toeing off his shoes, keith reaches forward towards zen's pants, although. he really isn't interested in blowing him, or really having anything to do with him. noctis at least seems into it, and that's the most he could ask for. his mouth finds the flattened muscles of his stomach, fuzzy with fur, and he licks up his navel, humming soundly. he can play it up, make it a nice show. noctis at least deserves that. zen plucks off keith's shirt with a bit of playful roughness, tugging gently in his hair - urging him down. )
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which, of course, is what led to the evening that led them to here. they've found someone handsome, someone perhaps noctis would've gone home with if keith hadn't come into his life -- what happens off eos stays off eos, right? it's new, the fact that he's a humanoid alien creature, as beautiful and graceful and tactile as he is. zen is good. zen is really good, and this is just sex, right?
it could be good for all of them, and noctis isn't silly enough to think that a one night stand could become a love affair. he and keith are stronger than that, right? but noctis limpets to keith more than he thought he would've, even though he's trying to convince himself that this is fine and all is well (it isn't, the same anxiety is acting up again).
but when keith reaches out to touch the man, when his mouth goes to his stomach and zen's beautiful fingers curls in inky black hair -- only noctis can touch him like that, only noctis can make keith go right down on his cock and choke on it. only noctis -- ]
I can't. [ noctis recoils, appalled at himself but unable to help it. he's distressed, upset, he doesn't want to see keith kissing another person's stomach -- ] I can't do this.
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babies.
so that's how keith ends up sitting on the toilet, noctis away on princely duties, while krolia sits outside and waits. it's just a little stick, and one that keith peed on, no less. it's really not all that intimidating. still, he feels his heart beating like a hammer against his chest while the test develops, five solid minutes stretching into an eternity.
eventually, he shows the two pink lines to krolia. demands another test, also positive, and then another — also positive. krolia holds him tightly and they both smile through their tears, hands pressed against his belly while they wonder about the little nugget growing inside of him. part human, part alien, part royal. a lucis caelum, like their father, like marriage has made keith. he's giddy with it, the notion of family, of making one with a man he loves more than anything else in the universe. he and krolia excitedly discuss baby things for hours on end, but keith kicks her out before noctis gets home, because. because it's special, and maybe private, and. he just wants to have noctis all to himself, tonight.
then. when he gets home, keith is in a familiar position on the couch, kosmo's head on his thigh. he perks when noctis enters, shutting off the tv and turning to face him over the back of the couch, sending him a bright grin. )
Hey. How was your day? ( blah blah blah, he's too excited to actually wait for an answer. ) I got you a present.
( it's just a small, blue box, done up with a plain bow. inside there's a pregnancy test, with two pink lines proclaiming pregnant. )
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today is no exception. he checks on keith, makes a list of things that could help -- like lots of citrusy fruit, for one, which also doubles up as yummy jizz if noctis wants to blow him tonight (the answer is always yes), and he comes home about to make him a full glass of orange juice when keith, his adorable and excited keith bartels right through his starting response.
not that he minds, keith is not often excited about things, and when he opens the box he stares right down at it. being a boy who has not actually been exposed to pregnancy and pregnancy-related things and can also be a little bit of a dumbass, he stares blankly at it. ]
Babe, this is a really weird th --
[ and then he sees it. the two lines, the proclamation of pregnancy, and he almost drops the box, wide-eyed. he stares at it, then at keith, mouth open. ]
I -- are you --
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well. not right now. right now he's feeding noctis' pretty little ass his throbbing member, but it's no less deserving of a comfy chair. it's hard work. and noctis.
he likes to give cain a run for his money. he didn't know taking his little princess' virginity was also going to be signing his death certificate, in a death via orgasm kind of way. he's already lost count of how many times he's filled noctis' ass with load after load of come tonight, but he'd wager he's somewhere in the fiveish region. noctis doesn't show any signs of stopping, lifting and sinking back down on the spear of his cock like it's a sport and he's going for gold. cain groans, gradually getting louder from overstimulation, sinking his fingers so hard into his hips they'll be sure to bruise. )
Baby, ( he coos, cheeks flared red from stuffy air and an extended workout. this slows noctis down and he takes the time to reach a hand up to tweak his nipple, pinching it between his pointer and thumb. ) you're gonna break it.
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he'd completely destroyed the notion that noctis would never be wanted the way he is now -- that as a prince there would forever be a disconnect between what he needs and what others need from him.
cain is like a force of nature, glorious and unstoppable and entirely infuriating but oh, it's not hard for noctis to fall in love; in degrees, then all at once. it's a freefall into heady, intoxicating territory, and it is really cain's fault, too, that he encourages noctis to fly his inner freak flag like he does when they're together like this.
he's an insatiable, horny demon when they're together now, the poor, suffering cockpit taking a rigorous beating as noctis takes the pounding like he was born to be fucked, by none other than cain himself.
he feels the wet, obscene squelch of too much jizz still in his ass, and he's panting and drooling like a bitch in heat when he impales himself on his cock over and over, recklessly passionate in his desire for more.
yelping when he feels his nipple pinched, he issues an impatient little whine, shamelessly arching forward to take his tongue between plush, kiss-swollen lips. ]
Then you shouldn't have jacked yourself off without me.
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it's all risky business - not benefitted by the fact that keith and noctis are hardly on speaking terms, fighting over keith's insistent inclusion on the mission. they change into their ballroom attire independently - noctis into a suit that cuts him just right, form fitted and made just for him, and keith into a red dress, tight on him, with a slit that goes up to his thigh. with the pregnancy, it's easier to just play the role of a woman, bedecking himself in fine jewelry and women's makeup, going so far as to sprinkle himself with perfume to really sell it. his hair is tied back in a more intricate braid, wound up for a stylish, slightly lazy updo. ( thank you, prompto. )
despite their fighting, keith can't resist his gaze softening as he looks at noctis, who gets more handsome each and every day. with a glaring intensity, they both tuck their wedding rings into noctis' pocket - a harsh movement that keith softens by kissing his cheek, even if they hardly share a word between them. he still loves him, even when they don't see eye to eye. one big fight isn't going to change that.
they hold up their half of the mission, talking with people all around, keeping their ears low to the ground and eyes stark on everyone, cataloging them all. it's an hour or so into the ball, noctis and keith playing wallflower by the drink table, that the first one hits. )
Ah!
( keith exclaims a little suddenly, bending forward as he presses a hand against his protruding stomach. he keens in towards noctis, whining as the baby moves, cringing in pain. )
It's ... it's false labor. I just — I have to get through it. Remember the classes?
( all the breathing exercises they taught noctis in order to steady keith, keeping count of the seconds in between rough contractions - he needs them now, even if they're fighting. )
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it galls him to know that keith could be in danger, that he could get hurt because of noctis, and the last thing he wants is keith in the line of fire -- but keith has always been a fighter. he's strong and fast and pretty damn dangerous, a lethal force to be reckoned with even when pregnant, but still.
still, noctis is supposed to protect him, to keep him safe, not get him involved in things like this. they spend the ride there in stony silence, noctis glaring out the window like the weather's done him a great injustice. but it goes away for a moment when he looks at just how beautiful his keith is, with his hair done up just so, makeup accentuating keith's features. his husband isn't pretty, isn't handsome -- he's absolutely, stunningly beautiful.
keith is the finest, most gorgeous soul he's ever set his eyes on, and as he picks up on that tenderness, their rings tucked into his pocket, he feels a sharp pang of regret.
he never wants his keith to remove his ring, not even for this. but never mind -- he'll put it on for him later again, the way he always has. right now, they have work to do, and ignis and gladio are counting on them to do it. he lurks together with keith, but when he hears him exclaim, every thought of frustration and anger bleeds away immediately, leaving unshakeable concern, because no matter what fights they've had, keith is his husband, the man who has his heart and all his love.
he comes over to him, a hand on his back as he steps close, eyes wide with concern. he remembers, of course. he remembers all the classes. a hand over keith's, he breathes, slow, deliberate breaths. ]
Yeah -- yeah. All right, breathe with me, baby. C'mon. You'll be okay. Breath. In. Out.
[ nevermind that they're in the middle of a mission right now. or a marital fight -- keith needs him, and noctis will be there for him, whatever it takes. ]
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it's a week in when keith's horrible, disgusting, painful homesickness becomes too much to bear. he misses noctis and their children, and he tells his mother sorry, but i need to go back.
which is how he finds himself stepping into their kingly quarters at some late hour of night, tiptoeing into their bedroom without making a sound. noctis is there sleeping peacfully, gratefully devoid of children in their bed who keith spared small kisses on their sleeping foreheads before stepping his way in here. he's hasn't even taken his marmora suit off, plastered onto him like a second skin, long braid dangling over his shoulder as he crawls into bed, arms framing around his king while he bends to press a soft kiss on his forehead. )
Nocty, ( he hums, cooing softly to wake him up. ) Nocty, I'm home. Wake up, baby.
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even his absence of a few days is enough to make noctis miss him. the kids, too -- but mostly noctis. he doesn't like the emptiness of their shared bed, and he'd taken to sleeping on keith's side of the bed in his absence because it smells like him, and noctis has always been a sap. things went on, of course; like they always do. they have their own duties and callings and noctis will never begrudge keith that, and he's happy to simply bide his time until his beloved returns to him.
and return to him he does, because he distantly feels the bed move, the weight of his husband on the luxury springs, the kiss, the gentle cooing, the feeling of his arms around him as noctis eagerly melts into them out of instinct. he's nuzzling into him, arms wrapped around him like he always does -- except he's sure he's still dreaming. ]
Mmm. Don't wanna wake... you're here.
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« au » in happier times
Granted, it meant having to move to a foreign land, but even in this arrangement, she was happy- even if at the time, she didn't know Prince Noctis very well at all, aside from having been his dance partner in her university classes. To suddenly be his wife- well.
She's never been anything but adaptable, and it's not like he's a bad person at all. He's rather sweet, actually, even if they're still getting to know each other, but in their time together, she has begun to notice some things she's finding endearing about him. How he lights up when talking about fishing, for example, or playing videogames... she likes them herself, and they also ended up training together. He's a fine warrior, and her own style of fan dancing- a fighting style using projectile fans, certainly kept him on his toes, and his own moves on hers.
This union has felt like a dance so far-
So tonight, a rare evening when they don't have to make any public appearances or charity donations, she's tapping on her phone screen, co-op playing his favourite King's Knight game with him- she laughs as they defeat the boss, and folds her legs properly. She's dressed casually, a cozy lounging top and shorts in red, her long hair pinned back- she looks more like a student than a princess at the moment, and she sits up as she looks over at Noctis. ]
All those debuffs! You've been leveling without me, I see.
[ It's a light tease, as they lounge in his bedroom. They have their own bedrooms, of course, but lately, she's been spending more time in his-
Even if they've yet to be intimate, but she likes spending time with him when he's not with his friends or showing up to official appearances with her. ]
Are you ready for the next stage or do you want to call it for the night? You look like you're going to fall asleep any moment!
[ Somehow, she's managed to keep this marriage as comfortable as possible- she treats Noctis as her friend first, even if they've had to be proper as status requires. He does look terribly cute like this, though- not a prince, not a noble-
Just Noct. She tilts her head curiously at him, though- ]
You seem distracted. Something on your mind?
[ Gentle as ever, she's been trying her best to open up to him herself, even with her own reserved nature. ]
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If he were to be honest, however, it's that things have been pretty much working out in his favor. Kitsuno is beautiful, kind, graceful and fascinating. Most importantly, she's interesting, and puts up with his prickly moods and awkwardness and actually shares his interests instead of simply tolerating them.
She's strong, too, a match for him when they spar, and it's a dance that he's appreciated in the months since their wedding. He takes to her easily, and often reminds himself to look out for her as well, to help to make sure that she's just as comfortable in this marriage. Theirs is a smooth partnership, and it helps, of course, that he's entirely smitten with her.
She's gorgeous, and he finds that he likes it when she lights up with laughter, when she's into the same games that he is. Tonight, she's especially stunning in her casual clothes; as gorgeous as she is in Lucian finery, he prefers her like this, uninhabited and genuine, unfettered by the trappings of royalty. Frankly, he hasn't been paying much attention to the game, his gaze caught on the curve of her smile, the way her hair catches the light. Without thinking, he reaches out to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear, calloused fingers brushing over the shell of her ear as he does. ]
No. I mean -- just.
[ He's pretty sure this is going to be awkward, if he were to ever admit to what he feels to her; which is stupid when she's his wife, but still. Things are complicated. Lamely, he continues: ]
You're very pretty.
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everything is vaguely clean and at least passable for the time, ignis wiping off the last of the kitchen counters as noctis comes slumping out a shower, looking no more put together than when he entered, but at least his hair is clean, now. he looked closer in relation to the refugees in the camps outside of insomnia, than the crowned prince, and while a portion of ignis is concerned, another portion of him is ... well, irritated. the prince has been in a piss poor mood thus far, having attempted to fire him on their reunion, and now there's this strange tension formed between them than wasn't there before ignis had left, and. ignis is a little at a lost. he hadn't really believed cor's claims that noctis had spiraled out of control while he was gone, but.
it seems, maybe he was correct after all.
a part of ignis can't help but think — he'd much rather be somewhere else than here, cleaning the apartment of a prince with an attitude.
but he is and there's nothing to be done about it, so. while noctis sits himself on the couch to begin his schoolwork, ignis reaches towards his books and pulls out an essay he'd written, reading through it.
after a long moment, he sighs, lifting a hand to rub the bridge of his nose. )
You're not serious with this, are you?
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being a prince means dealing with things, even with someone who he had missed so sorely, his childhood friend and the person he had quietly pined for, dealing with his clear disappointment at being home, dealing with the fact that he'd found love and some measure of happiness away from him. that's okay, maybe, it has to be.
maybe it's not.
so he's sullen and simmering, nursing the wounds he refuses to let others see, prickly and distant -- especially with ignis, who had made him so unspeakably angry -- and if he's honest with himself, he had been jealous of whoever had made the man so happy in altissia that he would simply extend his working stint there and --
-- so when ignis sounds like he would rather be anywhere but here, noctis bristles. ]
What is it now?
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