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alternatewarning · 3 years

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Darkness, Bathed in Blood - Whumptober 2020 Fic

Entry Number 27 (alternate prompt) and 30 for Whumptober 2020: Presumed Dead and Ignoring an Injury

Title: Darkness, Bathed in Blood Fandom: Final Fantasy XV Pairing: None Rating: T Triggers: Gore, torture Summary: Darkness has fallen on the whole of Eos -- fear always brings out the worst in people. A group of terrified citizens capture Ignis to try and find out where the crystal is and lift the darkness but no matter what he will not falter.

Cross posed to Ao3

It was impossible to determine how many days had passed like this, trapped. Outside the entire world was bathed in constant darkness, there was no reset signaling the start of a new day. Ignis thought that he had been here for about five days, but that was an estimate at best. There was no cycle, nothing to indicate when one day started and the next began. The group of people holding him seemed to arrive at random times and in random groups. So far he could pick out six distinct voices, two women, three men, and one more that he suspected was also male but they were quite young and their voice was quite high.

They would arrive in groups from two to six and then take turns. Sometimes they beat him, sometimes they cut at his skin with what he could only assume were knives. They often asked pointed questions in between the pain but they were asking less and less. They were probably figuring out that he wasn’t going to give them any answers. He had no idea who they were or what they wanted.

Clearly, the small group was ill-informed. They had bound his hands up in a chain, leaving just enough slack for him to stand, legs bound, with his arms held over his head. They had also tied a blindfold over his eyes which told him that they had no idea what they were doing. It was well known among the hunters that he was, for all intents and purposes, completely blind. So why bother with the blindfold? It meant they weren’t angry hunters.

“You wanna end this never-ending agony this time?” It was one of the women. Her voice was harsh, like someone had rubbed sandpaper over her vocal cords. Probably a smoker, when indulgences like that were commonplace. Just like every other time they prodded him, Ignis stayed silent, just listening. His only hope of escape was catching them off guard, somehow. While he could still summon his weapons, at this angle there was little he could do against the steel chains. He had already tried. Magic was also an option but without knowing where he was that just invitation disaster.

“Tell us where we can find the crystal!” The same woman bellowed at him. Only a moment later Ignis felt a small gasp forced from his lungs. A blade, a knife, was shoved into his stomach so deep that the hilt cut into his body. Before they had been careful, no wounds that would cause him to lose too much blood or possibly be lethal. Now they were either angry or stupid. She pulled out the blade and quickly forced it back in, tearing the flesh with the sharp blade

The hilt made a sickening squishing noise as it pushed up against the new wound and forced blood down his side. He focused on the details, on her voice, on the height of the wound, on the weapon, that way he could ignore the pain. She pulled out the knife and stabbed his gut a third time, this time with enough force that a hiss of pain skipped past his lips. She was no longer interested in his answers, she was angry.

The advisor could feel blood seeping into his clothes with alarming speed. These wounds were deep enough that if she kept going he could very likely die of blood loss.

“If you kill me, you will never get your answer.” Silence and then a burst of pain in his temple as his head snapped to the side. She’d hit him with the butt of her knife hard enough that he felt dizzy. While he’d angered her, he had pretty much proven that it was only the two of them. For a short moment, he absolutely lamented the loss of his vision. If he could see maybe he would know if she had a key to release him or not. Or even how his restraints locked. But he was not going to let himself be stopped by something he had no control over.

“Shut up! You’ve been playing us for fools for days and I’ve had enough!” Another slice of the knife into flesh. “You probably don’t even know where the crystal is! Which means you’re worthless to us. No one’s coming to get you, Scientia. So how about I just slice your gut open and let you bleed out on the floor?”

The venom in her voice spoke volumes. She was far past angry, instead fueled by malice and hatred. Each word was as sharp as her knife although he wasn’t sure why it was aimed at him.

“It’s all your fault! You and your idiot friends. If you’d protected the king like you’re supposed to we wouldn’t have to live in this endless night! I’m going to make your death slow and very, very painful.” She leaned in close, her breath tricking across his neck like a miasma.

Ignis forced himself to breathe even though taking in air felt like needles through his chest. He wanted to rebut her, tell her all they went through to try to protect him. To protect their king. But he knew it would be pointless. She wouldn’t understand, no one could. No one could ever understand the exact moment, watching his vision burn away and seeing nothing but his best friend limp, unmoving. To feel the only semblance of a family any of them had ripped itself apart in pain and grief. So he stayed silent. He let her bring her hatred against him wound by wound, absorbing her pain as his own.

Eventually, she slowed, the room punctuated by her heavy breathing and the constant drip drip drip of blood on the floor. He was feeling lightheaded and weak as if he would fall over if he’d been able to stand. It hurt to move, it hurt to stay still. He let himself hang from the chain holding his arms, even though he could feel his left shoulder slowly slipping out of its socket. It would be nothing like the pain of his body being torn to ribbons.

“You wanna know why no one’s looking for you?” She sounded smug but also winded. The fury keeping her going had ebbed into his body, tearing it apart with each slash. “We knew they’d come for you so we gave them your glasses. Broken, of course, and a little bit of blood. So now they all think you’re dead. And you will be. Any last words?”

She was right, he was going to die here. Here alone in some sort of shed or building, hidden away in the darkness. But none of that mattered. Not the pain, not the sensation of his body rending with every gasp of breath. What mattered was that he wasn’t going to be there when Noct woke up. That he wasn’t going to be by his side when he returned to claim what was rightfully his. And that hurt more than any torture or any blade ever could.

“My last words are you better get the hell out of here before I do you ten times worse!” Ignis startled at the voice, his head snapping up to see, as if he’d forgotten his world was nothing but an empty nothing. The voice rang in his ears, a welcome familiar comfort. It was deep and carried far, the voice of a man who knew how to both communicate and intimidate.

“Gladio…?” The advisor was surprised at the raspiness of his own voice which almost sounded like he had forgotten how to speak. There was a sudden, loud, thump and the clattering of something across the ground. He knew those sounds. A shield used for offense, Gladio’s full might behind a deadly bodyslam into the ground. And then the knife that had been soaked in his own blood hitting the ground and being kicked away by a trained soldier.

“Ignis, what the hell! I was told you were dead! I came here to collect your body.”

“You came?” He wasn’t sure why he was so surprised. Maybe because the last time they had seen each other it had been a rather unpleasant exchange. He had a feeling that another was coming, a tirade on why he should be back at base and not out here, trying to fight. Certainly, this situation was going to turn the tide even stronger in Gladio’s direction.

Ignis heard the snap of steel and the chains holding him upright gave way. His knees folded but Gladio’s arm caught him, carefully lowering him to the ground. The other man’s arm felt like hot led against his skin or was he so cold that it made Gladio feel warm. Ignis felt faint as if he would lose consciousness at any moment.

“Please allow me a moment to recover, then we can return to base.” The Shield didn’t answer but he could feel movement and then there was a quiet mechanical click. The metal bindings on his legs were pulled free and the chain slowly unwrapped from his hands. As circulation rushed back it brought with it a familiar pain but the sensation seemed rather distant now. As if he was observing it in someone else.

“Iggy we have to get you back, and now.” There was no room for argument between his words. The man stood and pulled Ignis to his feet in turn. The sudden movement wrenched away his sense of up and down but he did manage to stay on his feet. He felt Gladio’s hand on his back, trying to lead him by pushing him in the correct direction. Their bodies were so close together that he felt the other’s body tense as Ignis wobbled, unsteady on his feet.

“Ignis-”

“Gladio, I will be fine. I asked for a moment, did I not? I just...need...a moment.” It was getting hard for Ignis to string words together. He didn’t even notice his own knees give in and Gladio caught him again, this time just shifting the other man into his arms. It was obvious by the paleness of his skin and the red soaking the floor that Ignis was bleeding out.

Without giving the blind man a chance to complain he started to carry him. He couldn't run without making the injuries worse so he just walked with steady, long strides.

“Gladio? If I die, please, tell Noctis that-”

“Shush. You’re not going to die. Just hold on, I’ll carry you. And I’ll keep carrying you until you can stand on your own two feet in front of him, you idiot. I wish you wouldn’t...no, this isn’t the time to fight. Just know I’m going to keep holding on.”

Ignis didn’t respond, instead, he just let himself relax into the strong arms that cradled him with a surprising gentleness. It was a long way to base and he knew he couldn’t hold onto his conscientiousness that long. So he was going to enjoy the sensation while he could.

#whumptober2020 #fic #no.27 #altprompt #no.30 #Presumed dead #Ignoring an injury #Final Fantasy XV #FFXV #gore tw #torture tw #ignis scientia #blind ignis scientia #gladiolus amicitia #world of ruin

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alternatewarning · 3 years

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Freckles Aligned Like Stars - Whumptober 2020 Fic

Entry Number 12 and 29 for Whumptober 2020: Broken Bones and Emergency Room

Title: Freckles Aligned Like Stars Fandom: Final Fantasy XV Pairing: Noctis/Prompto Rating: T Triggers: Suicide, Suicide Pact, Overdose, Implied Homophobia Summary: After Noctis asks his father for permission to date his best friend and is denied, he feels like his entire world is falling apart. He doesn't want to live In a world where he's denied the one thing he wants to be happy.

Cross posed to Ao3

“Woah~ We’re crazy high up. I feel like you can see the whole city from here!” Prompto leaned over the stone banister of the Citadel, taking in the sights below. He and Noct weren’t at the very top, but close to it, out in an empty courtyard. Noctis sat on the stone wall as the blond leaned on it, both of them looking out over the city as the sun started to sink in the horizon. They were high enough up that people looked like little moving dots that faded into the grey of the streets below.

“Does your dad know I’m here with you?”

“No. He would say it wasn’t allowed.” Noctis answered with a huff, kicking his legs. Looking down the world seemed to stretch out before them, forever. Like if you fell off the edge you would be falling for an eternity.

“I wanted to talk to you about something.” The prince continued as he patted the stone next to him and Prompto jumped up to join him. He sat down with his legs over the edge as well, slowly kicking them back and forth. There was nothing holding them back from falling over the edge other than their own balance. At least the wall they were sitting on was thick, sturdy enough for a seat. Noctis held out his hand shyly and Prompto took it and, for a time, they sat in silence. Just two high school boys holding hands, kicking their legs, watching the languid sunset.

“My dad won’t...because I have to be king and…he said that…” Noctis started and stopped a few times, blue eyes boring holes in his sneakers. His friend squeezed his hand, offering support.

“You asked him if we could date, right? And he said no.” As a commoner, he basically expected that answer. Noctis was supposed to be a king, the king. He was just a nobody. The blond scooted a little closer until their thighs were touching, never letting go of their intertwined fingers.

“It’s okay. No matter what happens or who you have to marry or even if we never see each other again, I’ll always love you, Noct~” Prompto smiled, his expression soft. Noctis expected him to cry or look like he was in pain. But instead, it seemed like he expected this from the start. His smile, however, held enough sadness that the prince felt his own heart starting to overflow. They had been unofficially dating for a few weeks now. It was just small stuff at first, spending more time together, trying to be alone. But then Noctis wanted more.

They could probably still go back to hanging out like they did before but he was sure that his father would pass down an order for Ignis not to leave them alone. He was actually impressed that he’d managed to ditch his advisor/lifelong babysitter tonight. Maybe Ignis knew they wanted some privacy.

“I’m going to ask you something crazy, okay Prom? But I want you to answer completely honestly. It’s okay, no matter what you say.” Their eyes met for a long, silent moment. Noctis knew that the words that would come out of his mouth would change something. He didn’t know if it would be good or bad, but he knew that they couldn’t go back to the life they were leaving behind, just on the other side of the ledge.

“I don’t want to live without you. I don’t want to marry a woman I don’t love just so that we can have children. Then they’ll have to live this sucky life I already hate. I want to just be a normal guy. So...would you die with me? Here? While we still can?” Noctis squeezed their hands as he watched a few different emotions flitter across Prompto’s face. He recognized confusion followed by shock and then something altogether different. The sunset was making his blond hair look like a shimmering gold and his freckles were stars across his face. The prince just wanted to stare at them all day, drawing lines to make constellations known only to the two of them.

His friend opened his mouth to respond and then closed it again as if searching for the perfect words. Noctis wanted to take it all back but it was too late. The words, the implications, settled between them like an invisible noose.

“Ya. I mean, yes, yes I will. It won’t be scary because we’ll be together.” Somehow even in the fading sunset and agreeing toa mutual suicide, Prompto was sunshine in human form. His blue eyes were crinkled as he smiled, kicking his legs like a lovesick child. They sat together for a little bit longer, enjoying the chill of the evening wind and watching the lights of Insomnia blink on one by one.

And then, without words or plans, Noctis stood up. Prompto quickly followed, squeezing the hand in his. A feeling settled between them, a contentment. The blond swung their held hands, his smile finally fading into a soft, contemplative expression.

“No matter what, I love you, Noct.”

“I love you too, Prom.” They nodded, each in turn, slowly letting their combined hands fall. Once both of them had gotten ready, heels on the edge of the wall, holding hands once again, Noctis counted down. On one both of them leaned back into gravity, closing their eyes as they fell.

Both boys focused only on the hand they were holding, letting the wind whip past them. It was supposed to be fast, a quiet, sudden drop, and then nothing. Prompto expected to feel nothing, or maybe pain followed by nothing. Instead, he felt the hard smack of tree branches as his friend’s hand was wrenched from his grasp.

“Noct!” Prompto had half landed in a tree that was winding out from a balcony and up the side of the Citadel, chasing the sun. The branches broke from his sudden weight but they dropped him on the balcony instead of letting him crash all the way to the ground.

“Noct!” He was in pain and disoriented, and his arm felt very distinctly broken, but he ran to the edge of the balcony. Far below he could see his friend, his boyfriend, his lover. Noct had hit the bottom alone. They had intended to land on the pavement but their impromptu swan dive of death had been nothing but failure. Prompto was very much alive and Noct had landed on a car instead of the ground. The car had crumpled from his body but at least it looked like he died in peace. Even if he died alone.

_______________________

Prompto ran as fast as he could downstairs, hoping to arrive at Noct’s body before anyone else. But he was too late, having gotten lost in the maze of Citadel corridors. Ambulances had already arrived and there were red and blue lights everywhere. People were crying from outside the line of police officers and other emergency vehicles. They were mourning their prince. When he pushed into the crowd, one of the EMTs saw his broken arm and pulled him aside, sitting him in the back of one of the ambulances. His blue eyes watched his boyfriend be taken away on a gurney. Apparently, he was still alive but completely unresponsive. The blond felt nothing but guilt, everything had gone so wrong. The king was here, climbing in behind his son. He didn’t spare a glance back for the blond sitting alone in the second ambulance. There was no reason for him too.

Prompto watched the scene, letting the blue and red lights bounce across his eyes. The car that Noct had landed on looked absolutely crushed, the windshield was shattered and the top was bent in and twisted. But apparently, the ‘give’ had saved his life. Ignis was talking to a police officer, he looked rattled. Anyone would be, no one would understand why a prince with everything to live for would throw himself off a building. Not unless they knew.

Noctis was in surgery for hours. Even though he hadn’t died he was apparently a mess. Crowds flocked to the emergency room for a hint of news. The rumors had already started. Was it suicide? Why had he done it? Was he pushed? Would he be okay? No one noticed the blond who had been admitted only a few minutes later. His arm had been sprinted for now and then he was released, there was no reason to keep him here. If anyone realized that they’d jumped together they hadn’t said it.

Prompto waited in the hallway until he heard the news. Noctis was out of surgery but he was still in a coma. The general public had been cleared out of the whole floor, it was just the king and his retainers as well as Ignis and Gladio. Prompto wasn’t sure if he slipped in because no one was paying attention or if he was allowed to be here, but no one made him leave. Everything was talking, hushed, as if a loud noise would break the tension. There were so many questions, so many worries. Everyone wanted to know why, what happened. Would he be okay?

Prompto watched everyone from his rather uncomfortable waiting room chair. Ignis was stoic as always but he looked pale. He didn’t know the guy that well but considering his job seemed to be to babysit Noctis at all hours of the day he probably blamed himself. The blond wanted to tell him it wasn’t, that they chose to jump, but he also felt like an outsider, looking in through a pane of glass. Gladio was pacing back and forth, his face angry. He didn’t seem like the kind of guy that would understand. He was too forward, too blunt. He never let other people tell him how he had to live. The king, he just looked completely lost.

It took another few hours for the chaos to calm down. Regis had sent Ignis and Gladio home a while ago, the fact that he was the king probably being the only reason they relented. As time wore on others left as well until the hallway outside the room was just Regis, Gladio’s dad, and Prompto. The boy was sitting far enough down the hallway from the others that he was sure he had just been forgotten. But he waited. He had too. As they had all been talking about ‘what now’, an idea had formed in Prompto’s head. Noctis didn’t want to live like this, to live as a chosen prince. He’d wanted to die with the boy he loved and Prompto was going to make that dream a reality.

Eventually, the king seemed to fall asleep, the stress and worry eating him up. Prompto felt a little guilty for that but he needed to push those thoughts aside. No one was watching him, nor Noctis’s room. They were supposed to leave him alone for right now but the blond was good at getting in places he wasn’t supposed to. Once he was in the hospital room his stomach flipped and knotted in his chest. Noctis looked horrible. Nearly his entire body was in some sort of cast and there were monitors everywhere. His skin was so pale that he blended in with the white sheets over his body.

“Noct…? It’s me, it’s Prom. I’m sorry I...I messed it up. But I’ll make it up to you. Look what I snagged.” Slowly he approached the bed, speaking softly as if he would wake the sleeping prince. He held two small vials and a syringe in his hand, having pilfered them from nurses quite a few hours ago. He felt sick looking over his lover. It was as if every bone in his body had been shattered, nothing left of his beautiful prince.

“I’m not an expert at this but this is supposed to be painless, right? You’ll be a real sleeping beauty.” Eventually, he reached the bed and he sat down, setting the syringe by his side. “These are real strong painkillers. So...ya. I guess this is it.” He pulled the clear cap off of the syringe before climbing into the bed. There wasn’t much room around the prince’s body, held still with metal rods and machines. But he got as close as he could and filled the syringe with the clear liquid.

“Goodnight, Noct. I love you.” Since there was already an IV going to the other’s arm, he pushed the needle into the plastic tube and then depressed the plunger. He knew that people would panic and run once the machines started to beep so he was on a timeline. Prompto took the second bottle and filled the syringe again. He had always hated needles but now wasn’t the time to be squeamish. Holding the syringe in his right hand he turned his left arm over so he could see his veins.

“Goodnight…my prince” The blond pressed a small kiss on his lover’s face before plunging the needle under his skin and pressing down. He let his body go limp against the prince, a smile ghosting his lips.

#whumptober2020 #fic #no.12 #no.29 #Broken Bones #emergency room #Final Fantasy XV #FFXV #Implied homophobia tw #suicide tw #overdose tw #suicide pact tw #Noctis Lucis Caelum #Prompto Argentum #Noctis/Prompto #Promtis

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alternatewarning · 3 years

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Whumptober 2020 Masterlist

I am participating in Whumptober 2020 and so this will be a master list of every fic I post. All works will be posted on Archive of our Own and crossposted here. Due to tumblr rules not all fics in their entirety will be available on tumblr but in those instances I will be just linking to Ao3.

Forewarning, this is a whump challenge so expect violence and pain. I will only be tagging excessive violence and other NSFW themes, not casual blood/violence/pain. Master list will not have all of the tags due to the tag limit, check each fic before reading.

Fics are below, this should be updated daily!

Keep reading

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alternatewarning · 3 years

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Love Is Watching Someone Die - Whumptober 2020 Fic

Entry Number 20 (replaced with alternate prompt) and 26 for Whumptober 2020: Memory Loss and Nightmare

Title: Love Is Watching Someone Die Fandom: Final Fantasy XV Pairing: Gladio/Ignis Rating: G Triggers: None Summary: Almost a month ago Gladio and Ignis were in a horrible car accident. Gladio walked away with cuts and bruises, Ignis hasn't woken up yet.

Cross posed to Ao3

The slow, rhythmic beeping of the hospital machines was going to drive Gladio to madness. The fluorescent light right above seemed to flicker on every twentieth beep as if they were in cahoots with the machines to make him feel like he was trapped in an endless cycle. A cycle of nothing but hoping, waiting. Every day he would arrive at nine a.m. and stay until ten. Then he would go to work and come back to the same hospital bed. The same beeping machines, the same slightly off-white walls, and the same flickering light. The same chair pulled up next to the bed with the same book he’d just decided to leave on the table since it was a private room. He would stay until seven p.m. when visiting hours ended and he had to leave, the nurses had already threatened to ban him if he stayed. The man would go home, force himself to sleep, only to repeat the same day all over again.

What made the purgatory even worse was the fact that it meant there was no improvement. When everything had started, those first few weeks of panic and worry, the doctor had taken him aside. The man was young but he seemed sharp, a good head on his shoulders. He’d looked Gladio in the eye and told him that there was a chance that his best friend would never wake up. Ever since then the seed in his mind kept growing. What if he didn’t wake up?

After 28 days in the hospital without any improvement, Gladio was starting to lose hope. It had been almost a month of nothing. Everyone kept telling him that this cycle was unsustainable. He was spending too much time sitting next to a hospital bed just praying. The accident had been severe, it was a miracle any of them survived, maybe it was time to let Ignis go. He knew that he had to keep fighting, though, because there was no one else to fight for him.

Just like every day before he arrived when visiting hours started and slowly trudged up to room 302. Normally the door was closed. Gladio was one of the only people who came to visit and the doctors and nurses closed it on their way out. But today it was open.

“Anyone he…” The man poked his head into the room and started to speak only for his voice to leave him. The door was open because there was a nurse standing by the bed, talking. She was talking to Ignis. The off-white blankets were wrinkled from movement and the head of the bed had been adjusted to let his best friend sit up. He still looked as pale as a ghost, white bandages around his head blending into his skin. But he was sitting up. He was awake.

“Ignis!”

“Please, inside voice.” He rushed in and the nurse shushed him almost immediately. He gave her a small, apologetic nod, as he came over to the side of the bed. It felt like his heart was in his throat, ready to burst out. But as he reached his creaky metal chair he noticed that something was wrong.

“Excuse me?” The nurse spoke with a soft but commanding voice, larger than her petite figure seemed like it would allow. “Are you family? If not I’m going to ask for you to step out for a moment.” Gladio opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to form words. No, he wasn’t technically family. But at the same time, he was pretty sure there was no family to be here. He looked to Ignis to bail him out, to explain, but the other was looking between him and the nurse, his face almost completely blank.

“Sir, you can visit in a moment just please, step outside for now.” She placed a well-manicured hand on his shoulder and pulled, just enough force to show that she was entirely serious. So he stood as asked, his eyes never leaving Ignis’s. Why wasn’t he looking at them, why wasn’t he saying anything? The doctor’s warning rang in his head like a loud, looming warning. His head trauma was severe, there was always a chance of permanent brain damage. He’d been so busy worrying if Ignis would ever open his eyes, he hadn’t even taken that into account. Gladio slowly let the woman usher him out before closing the door between them.

There were rows of attached plastic chairs outside the room so he picked one to sit down in, watching the door anxiously. On the one hand, he was delighted, Ignis was awake and moving. Which meant that he wasn’t dead. But on the other hand, there had been no light in his eyes. No joy on seeing his friend, there had just been nothing. He hadn’t spoken or even really reacted at all. It wasn’t that unusual for the other man’s reactions to be calm but this was an entirely different level.

It seemed like an eternity that he was just sitting there, his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. But finally, the door opened again and the nurse stepped out, closing it behind her. She motioned for him to come over and he did, forcing himself to look composed and calm instead of leaping over as he wanted to.

“Who are you? A friend or…?”

“I’m his boyfriend, Gladio Amicitia. Can you tell me what’s going on?” He watched her sigh, tapping her lip with her finger.

“As you can tell, Mr. Scientia has woken up. That is good. The bad news is that it seems that his brain damage is worse than we were hoping.” Gladio forced himself not to look as crestfallen as he felt. “Most of his vitals are pretty good so I’m not that worried about his body.”

“I can hear a ‘but’ coming. Just tell me, how bad is it?”

“Well, the doctor will have to confirm when I go get him, but I think that he’s completely blind. And he doesn’t seem to have any memory.” Gladio felt his stomach drop to the floor. Blind? Ignis was a culinary student, he couldn't be blind. He needed to be able to see to do what he spent his entire life training to do.

“Any memory of what? The accident?”

“Of...anything.” Before he could panic she held up her hand, indicating she wasn’t done. “Now, that may come back in time. But as of right now he didn’t seem to know anything about himself. Since you two are clearly close, focus on that. On strong memories, events in his life. That may help bring it back.” Gladio felt completely lost for words. No wonder the other hadn’t reacted to him, he hadn’t seen him. And even though he heard his voice, it meant nothing to him. But maybe it was temporary. Ignis had always had a good memory, they just had to jog it.

“Just take it easy with him. He will likely be tired and easily overwhelmed. Do you know any family I can call? He only had you listed on his emergency contacts.” She looked up from the clipboard she was holding.

“None. At least, none that I’ve ever heard of. I know his parents died a while ago. I’ll see if I can find anyone.” She nodded and slowly left, leaving him in an empty hallway. He wanted to run through the door, to hold Ignis’s hand, to tell him it is alright. But would that help? Would the reassurances of a stranger mean anything? He had to say something. Slowly he walked towards the door, sliding it open slowly. Green eyes looked up, following the sound but it was clear that there was no note of recognition. He knew the door opened by the noise but he probably had no idea who was standing in the doorway.

“Hello? Is someone there?” His eyes were moving, looking for a source of the sound even if nothing was getting back to his brain. It hurt to watch.

“It’s me. It’s Gladio. The nurse said you might not remember who I am.” He walked in, shutting the door behind him. Carefully the older man watched Ignis’s face, to see any sign of recognition. There was nothing.

“My apologies, I don’t remember you. Are we friends?” It seemed like he gave up trying to ‘look’ in the direction of whoever he was talking to. So Gladio walked to the side of the bed, letting himself step a little louder than normal, and dragging the chair just enough to make noise. This time when he sat down in it he didn’t feel hopeless, he just felt tired.

Silence hung between them as thoughts spun through his head. Thoughts of what this all meant. Best case scenario, well, best case scenario was he healed and everything was fine. But assuming he got his memory back that wouldn’t change the blindness. You couldn’t be a blind chef, at least he assumed you couldn't. This was Ignis and he managed to do anything he put his mind to. But even if he could, it would take years of training to get back to where he was. Years of learning everything all over again, but harder, different. Would he have to give up his dreams because of this?

And what if he never got his memory back? They had only been dating for the last few months but they had been friends since they were children. He couldn’t even imagine a world without Ignis there, next to him. They had gone to school together, college together. Heck, they lived together for over a year before dating. And now Ignis was facing him, waiting for an answer to a question that seemed so simple. Would it be too much to spring on him? ‘Yes, we’re dating’. Or ‘Yes, you’re in love with me’. Even worse, if his memory never came back, what if this time Ignis didn’t fall in love? What if he loved someone else? He couldn’t just force a relationship on the man, a relationship he didn’t remember nor cherish.

“Ya. We’re friends. We’re…” Ignis was looking at him, expectant. “We’re friends.”

#whumptober2020 #fic #no.20 #altprompt #no.26 #Memory Loss #Blindness #Final Fantasy XV #FFXV #Ignis Scientia #Gladiolus Amicitia #Gladio/Ignis #Gladnis #Modern AU

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alternatewarning · 3 years

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White Lies - Whumptober 2020 Fic

Entry Number 15 (replaced with alternate prompt) and 23 for Whumptober 2020: Nightmare and Exhaustion

Title: White Lies Fandom: Final Fantasy XV Pairing: Gladio/Ignis Rating: M Triggers: Past abuse, mentions of sexual abuse, mentions of underage, mentions of rape Summary: After finally dealing with the man who had been using him for years, Ignis is left feeling adrift and sleepless. His own personal daemon is no more so why can't he escape the man's shadow even in his dreams.

Cross posed to Ao3

Sequel to Lies of Omission

Ignis thought that, after that night, everything would be easier. He should have known better, things were never as easy as they seemed. Even though Gladio had disposed of the body, he didn’t want to know how or where so he never asked, and he had cleaned the hallway to a spotless shine, still a member of the royal council was suddenly missing. The last he had been seen was in the Citadel but the building was massive, he could have easily left with no one being any the wiser.

If it had been anyone other than Gladio then Ignis would have worried that he would eventually be turned in for his crime. But Gladio knew what would happen just as well as Ignis did. If the prince’s retainers were found removing Insomnia citizens without any prior authorization it would be an absolute scandal. They would both be exiled at best and left to the daemons at worst. More than that, though, Noctis would never be able to recover from a political blow like that. It was already hard enough on the boy, carrying the weight of a title much too heavy for a child. So they both knew to stay silent.

The Shield as well as himself had actually been called in to help with the search, which Ignis supposed worked for the better. Gladio was one of the boots on the ground, looking for any hint of the man or what could have happened, and Ignis was left coordinating files and information. He was able to leaf through every eyewitness report, every complaint, every commendation that the man had ever had in his life. It was almost sickening how much people looked up to him. He was a drunkard and a pervert but his public face was almost fatherly. It made the advisor want to retch.

It wasn’t just the additional duties that were weighing on his mind. It seemed like every time he closed his eyes he was there again. Sometimes it was in the hallway, a hand in his hair forcing him to gag around something much too large for his throat. The back of his mind silently wondering if he was going to pass out from lack of air and how absolutely humiliating that would be. Sometimes it was back when he was still a boy, too small to fight, too ignorant to see past illogical lies. He would never forget that feeling: the pain, the burn, the cold of tile against his hands and knees, the knowledge that what was happening was very, very wrong.

Every night when he tried to sleep he found himself trapped in a nightmarish playback of an old memory. His mind jumped around from one point into another, merging them together. The pressure of a belt around his neck cutting off his air, the pain from something much too large for a ten-year-old body, the shame of purple bruises on his neck and on his hips that no one seemed to notice. And every night he would awaken, a silent scream trapped in his throat, sweat sticking his nightshirt against his body. His body tense and on edge, he didn’t bother to try and sleep again, he knew he would just return to the twisted wonderland of his dreams.

After two weeks of looking for the missing council member, the manhunt seemed to slow down. It was still alive, on paper, but the paperwork had appeared on Ignis’s desk to work on electing a replacement for the empty seat. Two weeks of wondering if someone would find out, if someone would know; two weeks of stumbling out of bed with only an hour or so of sleep, and Ignis was starting to wear down. There were so many responsibilities, so many duties, so much paperwork that, at the very least, there was always something to do. He spent his sleepless nights working in his office, only taking short naps on his couch before the nightmares dragged him awake with their claws in his heart.

One evening Ignis slowly opened his eyes. He was waking up but it wasn’t in a flurry of fear and panic, it was just a soft, normal waking. For at least a moment. As he was still blinking, eyesight blurry, there was a voice that distinctly did not belong in his room.

“Good morning sleeping beauty.” It was deep, gruff, but friendly.

“Gladio, what are you doing in my roo...office?” As Ignis shook off the fog of sleep he realized that he was not home in his bed. He was in his Citidel office and Gladio was sitting on the couch in the corner. This meant that he wasn’t on the couch, the one place he would dare to sneak in a nap before he passed out from exhaustion. It was only then that he managed to pull together the last few missing pieces. He had been sleeping at his desk, over some very important diplomatic papers he was supposed to be reading in Noctis’s stead and somehow his glasses had ended up folded neatly in the corner of the desk. The window overlooking the city was casting a deep orange hue meaning the sun was setting and he’d ‘napped’ for much longer than he ever intended.

Quickly the retainer sat up, brushing off his crumpled shirt, and grabbing his glasses to return them to his face. The blur was now gone, nothing more than a remnant of imperfect eyesight. That still didn’t answer how they had gotten off of his face but he had a sneaking suspicion that the answer to that question was the same as to why there was a pair of amber eyes boring him down from across the room.

“Can I help you?” Ignis made no move to hide his annoyance as Gladio just kept staring at him. He felt like the other was boring into his soul, searching around through his nightmares and fears.

“I’m going to give you two options, Iggy. Either you tell me what the hell is wrong with you now or after I sit here staring at you for a while.” Despite being only a year older, there was something about Gladio’s aura that was strikingly intense when he wanted it to be. It was clear that he was being entirely serious and he wasn’t planning to leave until he made Ignis crack.

“Nothing is wrong, I am only busy. Busy enough that I don’t have time for your games.”

“Ignis, I’m not going to play stupid. I said I wasn’t going to ask any questions, and I’m not. But even Noct knows something is going on with you. You look like you haven’t slept in weeks and you’re making mistakes.” Gladio drew out the last word on his tongue as he crossed his arms and leaned back. He had packed so much subtext into one word that it felt like the small office was too cramped between their two bodies and everything Gladio left unsaid. Ignis narrowed his green eyes, glaring at him through his glasses. Yes, the Shield was older, bigger, and stronger but the advisor was not intimidated.

“I am human, in case you’ve forgotten. Everyone makes mistakes.” He busied himself collecting the diplomatic agreement on his desk and carefully stacking the pages together, he would read it later when his mind was a little more focused.

“You don’t. At least, nothing anyone else would notice. You don’t have to keep hiding, you don’t have to keep holding onto his secret. This room is just you and me, you know. I’m not stupid, I know what was going on. I’ve known for a while.” There was probably more he had to say but anything else was cut off but a sudden clatter of a chair being thrown to the floor as Ignis stood up and banged his hands against the wooden desk.

“Then why didn’t you say anything!” The teenager was stiff with anger and hurt, emotions rolling off of his skin even as he kept his face stoic. For a moment the room hung in oppressive silence as Gladio searched his friend’s face. Guilt started to settle into his stomach as he tried to form words.

“I...don't know.” His entire plan of slowly warming up Ignis to talk to him was shattered to pieces between them. Instead, he realized that the cause of all this, the cause of the ‘missing’ council member and Ignis’s weariness, wasn’t just on Ignis’s shoulders alone. For the last few years, he’d felt in his gut that something was off. Ignis was closed off, he always had been, but there was something there, a weight, a guilt that seemed misplaced. And then the bruises. At first, Gladio had chalked them up to training, especially since he knew that Ignis snuck into the training yard to work alone. But then they kept appearing and he knew those were not marks from weapons.

Everything had clicked in his mind one night when he’d come in to work off some stress and he’d caught Ignis changing. Around his hips were two large purple bruises, the shape of hands across his pale skin complete with red rings where fingernails dug in much too deeply. His neck, too, was bruised badly enough that Ignis seemed to flinch as he buttoned up his shirt. Part of him had wanted to say something, anything. To grab the younger boy and ask him if he was okay, to bring him to a doctor and make sure he was okay. But when Ignis turned around and they locked eyes, his voice had just withered. He had tried to convince himself it wasn’t any of his business and he’d just offered a casual greeting as the advisor slipped by. And now they were here.

“I should have and that’s on me. I...I’m sorry, Ignis. I could make excuses until the sun rises but that won’t change the fact that you’re right. I should have listened to my gut.” It was only now, looking across the room at him, that he realized Ignis was only a teenager. He carried himself like an adult with years of experience and knowledge behind him, but he wasn’t. He was just a kid, a kid that everyone piled expectations on until something started to crack. How long had this been going on?

“Can I ask-” “You said you wouldn’t ask any questions.” Gladio opened his mouth to reply but shut it, the ice in Ignis’s voice enough to quiet him. “But I will answer the pressing one. ‘How long’ is what you wanted to ask me, I’m sure.” The Shield just nodded, shrinking against the couch in guilt.

“Six years.” Ignis let out a heavy sigh, the tension and anger in his body escaping in the sound. He moved slowly, his body heavy, as he stood up the chair on the ground before letting himself fall into it with a loud thud.

“I was-” “Fuck, you were ten.” Realization suddenly dawned across Gladio’s face, his eyes widening before anger flashed across his eyes. “You were only a little kid.” Iris was ten right now and the idea of that happening to her made him want to rage. As smart as Ignis was, a little kid could easily be manipulated by an adult, especially in a precarious situation like this. Only last night his little sister had come into his room to sleep since she’d had nightmares and was scared. She was so small, so innocent, and he would murder anyone who even dared to take that away from her.

“I’m, Iggy, I’m sorry I didn’t say anything.” “It’s fine, water under the bridge. Nothing is going to change no matter how much you pity me. Now, I really do have mountains of work to do. You can see yourself out.” Ignis motioned towards the door as he pulled his chair back up to his desk. He wasn’t sure if he would actually be getting any work done but his heart was starting to ache from talking about it. Gladio stood up and so the advisor turned his attention to the schedule on his desk. He needed to fit in a meeting with the interviewers for the empty council seat.

Suddenly Ignis’s chair was pulled back, tipping him away from the desk. He tried to stand and get away but Gladio was already there, wrapping an arm around his chest and lifting him over his shoulder.

“What is the meaning of this! Unhand me, Gladio!” He was not a sack of rice! While Ignis didn’t want to hurt the other man, he also didn’t want to be carried. Eventually, Gladio’s weight shifted and he was set down, but not on the ground. Instead, he was gently dropped onto the couch, his back hitting the cushions with a little too much force.

“Gladio!” “I’m not pitying you. But I am going to make up for keeping silent. I can tell you haven’t been sleeping, the fact that you dozed off at your desk is proof enough of that. So sleep. I’m going to stay here with you.” The Shield walked over to the desk and pulled over the empty chair that had been opposite of where Ignis had been only moments before. He placed it at the head of the couch, just to the side. It creaked as Gladio sat down, his weight heavy against a chair that was rarely used. No one bothered to visit Ignis in his office.

“You clearly didn’t understand me when I said I had work to do.” “There will always be more work. Just take a short nap, then. But I’ll be here, so don’t worry. Even if you have nightmares you’ll be safe. I’m done standing by and letting things happen.” There was a resolution in his voice that made Ignis’s chest warm. Gladio really was intending to sit here and make sure that he slept. It was a little humiliating but somehow he knew that if he tried to fight it he would lose in the long run. With a huff to save face, he took off his glasses and set them on the table next to the couch.

“Fine, a short nap, thirty minutes or so. Then you will leave me to my work.” “Fair enough. Now sleep.” Gladio gave him a good-natured shove before leaning back in the chair. With a roll of his eyes, Ignis laid down, turning his back to Gladio so he could pretend he was alone. Exhaustion settled along his body as he closed his eyes, comforted by the sound of breathing next to him. Just the knowledge that Gladio was there was enough and Ignis finally fell into a deep sleep. He slept through the night peacefully and Gladio stayed by his side, keeping the nightmares at bay.

#whumptober2020 #fic #no.23 #no.15 #altprompt #Exhaustion #Nightmare #Final Fantasy XV #FFXV #past abuse tw #sexual abuse tw #abuse tw #underage tw #rape tw #nsfw #nsfwwhump #Ignis Scientia #Gladiolus Amicitia #Gladio/Ignis

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alternatewarning · 3 years

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All The King’s Horses Chapter 3 - Whumptober 2020 Fic

Entry number 22 and 25 for Whumptober 2020: Poisoned and Disoriented

Title: All The King’s Horses Chapter 3 Fandom: Final Fantasy XV Pairing: Noctis/Ignis, Gladio/Prompto Rating: M Trigger Warnings: Major character death, coughing up blood, vomit Summary: Now bereft of two of his closest friends, Noctis falls into a somber depression. Ignis does his best to support the prince until Noctis's enemies set their sights on his last pillar of support: his advisor.

Cross posted on Ao3

Noctis’s apartment had never felt more lonely, more empty. The room was just too quiet, too sparse. The prince sat on his couch, alone, the television on but serving as nothing more than a flickering background to intrusive thoughts. He was curled up with his feet on the couch, his head hiding behind his knees, arms wrapped around his legs. Ignis was reminded of the little boy who had needed someone to cling to all those years ago.

But now there was nothing to ease his heart. He couldn’t wrap the prince up in blankets and read him stories of the kings from long ago to soothe his aching soul. His Shield and his best friend had been taken from him so brutally and so quickly, there was no patching the wound they left behind.

Ignis brought over a fresh cup of tea, setting it down on the end table next to Noctis’s arm. He reached out to touch the prince’s shoulder but the other pulled away in silence and so the retainer just offered a small nod. He reached back and grabbed a blanket off the couch, laying it over his prince. Right now Noctis didn’t want someone beside him, he wanted to mourn alone. And he had every right to want that. No one should have to suffer two losses back to back like that, nonetheless a boy who felt things so deeply. The advisor moved back to the kitchen, collecting half-full plates from the kitchen table to wash. It was going to be a very long night.

With a quiet sigh, he picked up the can of coffee he had set aside before trying to cook dinner. Noctis had barely eaten a bite, as expected. The prince had a broken heart and Ignis wasn’t sure how to even start picking up the pieces. For now, his own feelings had been boxed up and set aside, at least until he could sort out his charge. Since it was going to be another long night of handling duties enough for three people (ever since the ‘accident’ he had volunteered to take on Gladio's duties in regards to the Crownsguard to give the man’s father time to grieve) he downed the coffee quickly. There was a slightly bitter taste, almost metallic; he eyed the can’s manufacture date but set it down to recycle it later.

As Ignis started the dishes, the quietness of the apartment hit him like a truck, nothing but the sound of running water and the quiet drone of a television show no one was watching. There was no Gladio to yell at Noctis, to try and manually pull him out of his grief. There was no Prompto to try and cheer him up with jokes or distractions. There was just a broken prince and an advisor trying to find all the pieces.

Once the plates were clean Ignis set them aside in the drying rack, turning his attention next to the pots that he had used to cook. Before he could move on to his task, though, he leaned over the sink, resting his hands on the edge of the metal. It felt like a sudden headache was starting to pound at the back of his mind. Probably too many sleepless nights. With it, though, came an uncomfortable burn in his lungs. He brought up a hand to cover his mouth, barely muffling a wet cough that shook his body with more force than he would have expected of such a sudden onset.

“Specs?” The cocoon of sadness and blankets moved just enough for the black hair to peek out over the island that separated the living room from the kitchen.

“Just feeling a little under the weather, nothing to fuss over.” Ignis did his best to assure the now-worried boy as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He waited until the royal bundle of blankets slowly returned to his original position before turning back to the dishes. He felt like the headache was pressing at his eyes and everything was starting to spin. The advisor worried that if he let go of the sink he would topple over, now no longer entirely sure how steady he was on his feet.

Something was wrong; this wasn’t just some sudden cold or a migraine from pushing himself too hard. Every time he tried to swallow his throat felt sticky and scratchy, slowly building the need to cough. His body won out over his mind and he huddled over the sink, his body wracked with wet coughs that seemed to rattle through his empty chest. It wasn’t just a single cough this time, either, but a full fit that ended with him doubled over, clinging to the counter for purchase.

“Ignis!” “I am fine. It’s just...it’s just, I am a little…” His words faded as the world seemed to spin and he crashed to the floor, bringing the tray of drying plates with him. The ceramic smashed to the ground, shattering to pieces across the kitchen tile. Nocits appeared in a warp of panicked blue, grabbing his friend by his shoulders and hoisting him into a seated position. His wide eyes said everything that was frozen in his chest. He couldn't lose Ignis too.

“Iggy what’s going on, what do I do?!” The boy who was so morose he couldn’t speak only a moment ago was now only a pitch away from shrieking as he wrapped his arms around his only friend left in the world. Before the older man could speak he started to cough, Noctis holding him tightly as if that could prevent him from falling apart from the force. Once the fit finally started to ease, his advisor was heaving for breath, his hands and lips wet with blood.

“Call...can’t...breathe.” The retainer forced out words between deep, worthless gasps of air. The prince could tell that his advisor was forcing himself to stay calm even as his insides were tearing themselves apart. Noctis felt the other’s chest rise and fall in a frantic attempt at getting just a little more oxygen as if he’d run ten marathons one after another. And yet the man in his arms seemed to be fading.

He needed to get someone here, Ignis needed help. They needed help. Noctis reached back into his pocket only to realize he didn’t have his phone. It had gotten smashed to bits back at the building and he hadn’t had the fortitude to go out and get a new one just yet. Fuck. Fine, he had a phone in the apartment. Slowly he set down Ignis on his side, afraid that the man would shatter just like the broken plates. Another coughing fit started and this one was fewer coughs and more gasps between mouthfuls of blood and spit. Noctis hated to leave his side even for a moment but without help, Ignis was going to die. He warped over to the phone and snatched it off the counter fast enough for his own body to feel the whiplash. There was no sound on the other end. A dead line?

“Fuck!” In an instant he was back at his friend’s side, rubbing his back as his mind reeled from the scene in front of him. Ignis had managed to roll over onto his elbows and knees but he was still spitting up blood, his entire body trembling from the effort. His face was starting to look paler and blue and the coughs were sounding more and more like gags.

“Iggy where’s your phone. I need your phone!” He could barely make it out between the heaves and what sounded like dry sobs, but Ignis was shaking his head. Why?! They needed help now!

“Fine, I’m going to get help!” The prince stood up and almost warped out of the room but stopped, his heart twisting out of his chest. He heard a quiet, choked sound, unsteady and weak.

“Don’t go.” Noctis let himself fall to his knees, wrapping his arms around Ignis’s chest and burying his head against the back of the dying man’s neck. The coughing slowed, the heaves faded into quiet rasping. Slowly he turned over his friend in his arms, swallowing back his own tears. Ignis was pale and his lips were faintly blue. He had lost his glasses somewhere along the way and there was blood all down his mouth and neck.

“Noct…” Slowly Ignis reached up, his hand tracing up Noctis’s face before tangling in the black above him. His hand was streaking blood in the prince’s hair but the prince didn’t care. Instead, he leaned in close, watching the green eyes on him, fuzzy and unfocused. Ignis’s voice was so quiet like he was forcing out words with the only air left in his lungs.

“I must...beg for your forgiveness...”

“Iggy, don’t talk, it’s okay. You’re gonna be okay.” His own blue eyes were starting to cloud with tears as he leaned down until their foreheads were touching. Ignis’s skin was almost cold to the touch.

“I wanted to be...by your side until the end. Noct I...” The body in his arms suddenly slumped, his hand ghosting touches against the prince’s cheek before it landed limply between them.

“Iggy? Specs? Ignis! Ignis!” Even as he screamed his retainer made no movement, now just a pale specter of what he had been mere moments ago. In only a few minutes his last lifeline had been completely severed. For the first time, he could remember he felt completely and utterly alone. Since before he could remember Ignis had always been there. By his side, sometimes mothering him, sometimes being a friend, and sometimes just being a silent shadow, a reminder that no matter what he was never alone. But now he was.

Noctis let his own body go slack, shock setting into his bones. Someone had taken his entire life from him. Someone had taken his friends, his brothers, and he was not going to let them get away with it. Slowly he shifted so that he could pull Ignis’s body into his lap, leaning the dead weight against his shoulder. There wasn’t anyone to tell him that it was going to be okay because it wasn’t. Not anymore. Someone had taken his Shield, they had made him feel vulnerable. Someone had taken his sunshine, they made him feel fear. Now they had taken his heart and they were going to feel his wrath.

But for now, his wrath would have to wait. He pushed it aside, letting it feed on his emotions, growing quietly in the back of his mind. He was just going to sit here, stretch out the last moment he could with his closest friend, with someone who meant more to him than any words could ever express. Even as Ignis’s body went cold he refused to let go, resting his cheek against the brunette hair. It wasn’t until the king showed up, worried about his son, that he was separated from the bloodied body in his arms. When Regis tried to comfort his son he realized that the boy was no longer there, only the shell built up of rage and pain remained.

No one knew what to do, how to try and fill the hole left in the boy’s heart. He’d lost his mother long ago and now all of his friends lay dead. Noctis turned all of his energy, his focus, into finding out who it was, why everything had been taken from him. It didn’t take long for the prince to find them, fueled by his single-minded focus. There was a group, small but connected. They had been building, growing for years. They apparently united under one focus, one purpose: for the prince to become stronger. They worried he was too sensitive, too weak, that he relied too much on those around him. If he was going to be their next king he needed to be strong.

By the age of twenty-five, Noctis had taken over the throne for his ailing father. The rumors and dissent around him being too weak to be a king quickly quieted once he held the crown. No longer the sensitive chosen son, he ruled with an iron fist, single-minded in his quest for peace. After the murder of his retainers, he took more, another Shield, another advisor, but they were attendants in name only. He refused to let any heart close to his own. He married to continue his line, to keep the peace he forged with fear and power, but there was no love. When it was his time to be entombed he was given the full ceremony of a king of Lucis, his sword buried at his grave. And upon it an inscription: Noctis: The Broken.

#Whumptober2020 #fic #no.22 #no.25 #poisoned #disorientation #Final Fantasy XV #FFXV #vomit tw #blood tw #Ignis Scientia #Noctis Lucis Caelum #Noctis/Ignis #Alternate Universe #No Prophecy AU

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alternatewarning · 3 years

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Static Radio - Whumptober 2020 Fic

Entry number 13 and 21 for Whumptober 2020: Breathe In Breathe Out and I Don’t Feel So Well/Chronic Pain

Title: Static Radio Fandom: Final Fantasy XV Pairing: Prompto/Noctis Rating: T Trigger Warnings: Major character death, coughing up blood Summary: After Noctis defeated Ardyn and took the throne, Insonima has been working hard to build itself back up. There is always work to do for everyone, from citizen to Crownsguard. Trying to be the king of a kingdom in ruins was a hard task, a busy task, which is why Prompto couldn't really catch his best friend to talk to him in private. To tell the now-king that his best friend was dying.

Cross posted to Ao3

Prompto hunched over in a corner of the Citadel, covering his mouth with his elbow as he coughed loudly, the force causing his entire body to shake. He was already running late for the meeting he was supposed to attend and this wasn’t helping. After the second round of lung-scarring coughs wracked through his chest, he took a moment to try and compose himself. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve, purposefully ignoring the dark red stain that was now setting into his jacket. His jacket was black so no one would notice. After forcing himself to breathe normally he straightened his clothes and went back to panicking about running late.

“When are you planning to tell Noctis?” Prompto was rudely awoken from his daydreaming by Ignis’s soft tone. He blinked, looking around the meeting room. Everyone was filling out already so clearly he’d checked out and missed the last half hour of the meeting. And now it was just him and the advisor leaning against the desk in front of him.

“Tell him...what? Exactly?” Prompto knew he was playing dumb and it would get him absolutely nowhere. If anyone could figure out what was going on with literally no information, it would be Ignis. The older man let the tension hang between them, a silent sigh.

“About your condition. This has already been going on for months. You’re on a strict timeline.” The blond wanted to frown. Some day, just once in his life, he wanted Ignis to be wrong about something. But, as always, he somehow put together all the pieces of a puzzle that no one else seemed to even notice was there just yet. How a blind man managed to figure out something was physically wrong with him was completely beyond his comprehension but he knew better than to try and figure it out. Ignis could do anything he wanted it by stubbornness alone.

“I’ll tell him. Just, the right time hasn’t come up yet. Don’t worry about it.”

“How could I not worry? It is none of my business but Prompto…”

“I know, I’ll tell Noct. Just, gimmie some time.” Prompto knew time was the one thing he didn’t have. And clearly, the advisor knew it as well but he said no more. With a small nod, Ignis excused himself, leaving behind enough doubt in his wake that it didn’t even seem like he left. He was right (he was always right). Time was running out if he was going to tell Noctis. But how did one tell their best friend they were dying?

Normally Prompto would spend his afternoon training, working, taking pictures, or maybe going out drinking. There was a lot left to do to rebuild Insomnia and even the rest of the continent beyond that. But today wasn’t one of those days. Instead, he just went home, half collapsing onto his bed, still in his jacket and shoes. His home was little more than an apartment with a bed, shower, and a fridge but he really didn’t need anything else. Especially not now. Not when every bone in his body felt like it was shattering to pieces under his skin.

By the time he hit the mattress he was so exhausted that he wasn’t sure if he could even shift into a better position. Every day was getting harder and harder. It hurt to walk, sit, stand, breathe, exist. He was good at hiding it, of course, hiding things was the one thing that Prompto had managed to completely master. Hiding his feelings, hiding his pain. He didn’t want anyone else to worry. But now the pain had transitioned into something a whole lot worse. Thinking of it seemed to remind his body that his lungs were still in his chest and he rolled onto his knees, a sudden string of coughs ripping through his lungs. Since no one was watching he didn’t bother to hide, Prompto just let the blood splatter onto his mattress.

Once the forceful need to cough had finally faded he ended up coughing more, blood clogging his throat. Ignis was right, he was running out of time. He’d already tried potions and magic, nothing made it any better, nothing took the pain away. Prompto even knew why, he just pretended that he didn’t. He wasn’t wounded or ill, he was breaking down. Magitek soldiers weren’t cloned to live long lives. They were supposed to be created and then demonized so quickly it didn’t matter how long their bodies could survive. He was just reaching the end of his shelf life.

Even for Prompto, who had retained best friend status even through ten years of separation, it was hard to get time with Noctis alone. There was always something. And no one could blame him for that. He was rebuilding an entire kingdom, one brick at a time. So when Noctis was running late he couldn’t really hold it against his friend. Instead, he just waited, watching. He’d chosen to meet at the fountain, a landmark for most people, but to them it was special. As teenagers they’d spent a lot of time here, goofing off, talking about school, talking about life. It was where Nocits told him about his marriage to Luna; it was where he told Noctis about how lonely he was sometimes, jealous, that Noctis had so many people who loved him. It seemed like a fitting place to talk.

While he was sitting there, just watching people walk by, a piece of trash was blown by the wind. It hit the gunman in the face who let out a huff, grabbing the plastic with a little more force than necessary. It was an empty chip bag. He almost yelled about people littering a city they were still putting back together when he noticed the bottom of the bag. It had a date stamped on it, the best by date. Prompto ‘hmmed’ under his breath. He was no different from a mass-produced bag of chips. Except he was sticking around way past his best by date.

“Sorry I’m late, what did you want to talk about? I hope it’s qu...Prompto? Are you okay?” Noctis hurried up to his friend, the tone of his voice trailing from rushed to worried. He’d know that whatever Prompto wanted to talk about was serious, he wouldn’t have suggested meeting at the fountain otherwise, but there was clearly something wrong. He looked pale, haggard, in a way that the king had never seen before. And he’d seen his friend chased by daemons, climbing a mountain, running for his life, and kidnapped and tortured by Ardyn.

The blond let out a heavy sigh before lifting his head and smiling at his friend, even if it didn’t meet his eyes. He tossed the empty bag over his shoulder, letting the wind carry it away.

“I’m fine.” The lie deflated before it even left his mouth. “Okay, I’m not exactly fine. But that’s why I wanted to talk. Um…” He bit down on his lip, trying to sort out of how to say this. He should have decided that ahead of time but good ideas were never his strong suit.

“Ya know how when stuff gets mass produced it’s not necessarily very high quality?” Prompto offered what seemed like a change of subject. Noctis slowly walked over and sat next to him on the edge of the fountain. Just like when they were in high school.

“Yeah. Prompto…”

“Well, if you remember, I um. I kinda…” Blue eyes looked up and met the king’s looking back at him. He wanted to just leave off there, let the rest stay unsaid. The look, the pity in Noctis’s eyes said that he knew where this was going, he understood. But he didn’t stop Prompto, he let him continue. He wanted him to continue. He needed to head the words.

“I’m dying, Noct. I’m breaking down. It’s been over a year and it’s just getting, well, bad. Like real bad. And I-” Prompto felt himself get cut off by a sensation against his mouth. It took his brain much too long to register that he was no longer talking because he was being kissed. It took even longer for his brain to catch up on why this was such a bad idea, but he ignored that part of his inner monologue and just kissed back.

“I’m not going to let you die.” Nocits spoke but Prompto barely heard it through the blood rushing by his ears. He could still feel the cool lips against his, the scratch of Noctis’s stumble against his cheek.

“We, you, um, what just happened?” The gunman looked around, almost expecting someone to jump out with a video camera. But nothing happened. A few passers-by were giving him an indecipherable look but that much was to be expected. The king had just kissed him. Suddenly. In public.

“Prompto.” Noctis took one of his hands, intertwining their fingers like lovesick teenagers. “I’m not going to let you die. I want to know why you didn’t tell me before but I’m sure you had your reasons. I’m going to fight tooth and nail for you, you know that. So come on. I’m sure we can figure something out.”

For a few short seconds Prompto just blinked. He’d thought about this conversation all night. He’d planned out what to say, not that he’d remembered any of his plans once he started talking, and he had tried to prepare himself for Noct’s response. He was prepared for sadness, anger, disappointment. Not for a kiss. Not for the king to look him in the eyes and promise to try and find a way to help him.

“Noct, I mean, um, thanks?” He couldn’t help but smile. It didn’t matter how much it hurt, how much he spent every day wanted nothing more than for it to end because then he could go back to bed, none of that mattered. Not compared to this. To Noct smiling at him, holding on just tight enough that it said ‘I’m not letting go’.

Just as Prompto stood up so they could walk back to the Citadel together he felt it. The familiar tickle. It started as nothing more than an annoyance but blossomed into a full-blown need in only a few seconds. He pulled his hand away from the king’s long enough to cover his mouth as he started to cough, hacking loudly as his entire body trembled with each breath. He felt droplets of blood splatter across his fingers as black dots started to appear in his vision. He couldn’t stop coughing.

“Come on Prom, you’re okay. Come on, breathe!” Noctis helped him kneel on the ground, his entire world out of focus. All he could pay attention to was the burn in his chest and the wet droplets against his hands. He had to hold on, just a little bit longer. He wasn’t going to let himself die, not after Noctis, not after he realized that he might actually have a chance.

“Come on, Prom, breathe. You’re okay just keep breathing. We need help, can someone get us help!” Noctis yelled to the people around them, a few of which were quickly running off. Hopefully to get someone. The king felt his friend fading in his arms. He was coughing less and less, but not because he didn’t need to, but because he was passing out.

“Prompto!” Noctis lifted the other man in his arms, just as he saw some of the new Crownsguard rushing over. Maybe they couldn’t save him just yet, but if they could just keep him alive then they would have time. They just needed more time.

#whumptober2020 #fic #no.13 #no.21 #Breath In Breathe Out #Chronic Pain #I don’t feel so well #Final Fantasy XV #FFXV #noctis lucis caelum #prompto argentum #Prompto is a clone #Major character death tw #Coughing up blood tw

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Whumptober 2020 Masterlist

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Crowd of Three - Whumptober 2020 Fic

Entry Number 18 and 28 for Whumptober 2020: Panic Attacks and Accidents

Title: Crowd of Three Fandom: Final Fantasy XV Pairing: Ignis/Prompto Rating: T Trigger Warnings: Panic attacks, crushed to death, gore Summary: It’s the day any up and coming musician would die for, the chance to play in front of hundreds of people. And yet Ignis is more worried about those hundreds of people than the highly difficult solo he was supposed to perform.

Cross posted to Ao3

“Come on, if we don’t hurry we’ll be late.”

“Don’t worry, dear, we’re coming.” The woman giggled as her husband stood a few feet ahead, tapping his foot but smiling. He looked back to the boy holding her hand as he nodded and tried to walk a little faster to catch up to his father. Multicolored leaves crunched under their feet, the sidewalk lined with bright orange, reds, and yellows. It was just cool enough to wear a jacket but warm enough that the crisp air was welcome.

“Just because we’re not going to be a half an hour early, doesn’t mean we’re going to be late. Right, Ignis?” The little boy nodded at his mother as they caught up with the man waiting for them. He took the woman’s open hand, leading the duo down the street. The three of them stopped at the corner, waiting until the red hand blinked off and changed to the white person. There was already a large crowd growing outside of the theater across the street. As they crossed the street it seemed like more and more people were adding to the crowd.

“I didn’t realize it would be so busy. Well, we already have tickets so nothing to worry about.” The man chuckled as he led his family through the crowd towards the door. There were so many people Ignis had to cling to his mother’s hand to avoid being bumped or pushed aside. Could this many people even fit into one theater? Luckily they were let in and taken to their seats, free of the crowds. When general admittance opened the crowd from outside seemed to surge in like a wave. Ignis turned around and stood on his chair, watching the three sets of double doors open to let in as many people as the place could hold.

Since his back was to the stage and his parents were talking to each other, none of them noticed when the crowd’s excitement started to morph. The cheers and loud talking slowly transformed into screams of panic as the room was filled with the sounds of small explosions. Ignis turned around, trying to peer over the crowd. He could see smoke coming from the stage and eventually the flicker of fire. The people who had, only a short while ago, been pushing and shoving to get in were now trying to turn around, shoving each other in a mad dash to escape.

It wasn’t until the mass surged towards him and his parents did any of them entirely realize what was going on. The front of the stage had burst into the flames, the fire licking up the curtains and spreading into the seats. It was a race to escape the fire and the smoke as it rocketed across the wooden chairs and decorations.

“Ignis, this way!” The smoke was quickly filling the room and there were so many people rushing and pushing and screaming. Ignis tried to follow the voice until he felt his mother grab his hand, pulling him from the chairs. They had merged into the crowd although he couldn't see his father. He was probably up ahead. In fact, he couldn’t see anything other than people’s legs. His mother was holding his hand but the crowd was pushing them apart; he couldn’t even see her through the sea of people.

“Mom! Dad!” Suddenly his mother’s hand was ripped from his and he heard her scream. The crowd lurched forward like a ship at sea. There was more screaming and then people were pushing from both in front of him and behind. The boy tried to push through the curtain of bodies, to look for his parents but there were too many, they were too strong. He felt himself tripping over things, something soft and it shifted under his feet. But he wasn’t sure what it was and then he was just carried away by the mob, screaming for his parents all the way through the doors

Once the sea of humans started to part he pulled himself out, wiggling away and turning to try and run back inside. There were small windows in front of the theater, much too small for an adult to fit through but small enough for a boy. He climbed on the bench that sat under the windows and then pulled one open just enough to wiggle his body inside. He was about halfway in, his shoulders just making it through the rectangular opening when he saw it. The burning was burning, fire was eating away everything in its path. But that didn’t matter, the entire theater could burn around him and Ignis wouldn’t notice. All he could see were his parents. Both of their bodies were bruised, bloody, crushed by the mass of people who had tried to escape the chaos.

His father was back in the aisleway, about where he’d lost sight of him. His back was covered in shoeprints, his face purple from bruising and blood. He wasn’t moving. He called for his father, hoping, praying he would just look up, just say something. But nothing happened. Closer to the exit was his mother, lying on her back. Her green eyes were open, staring up, but her face was pale. Her beautiful blue dress was torn and dirty and her arm was twisted at an unnatural angle. She didn’t move, she didn’t turn. She didn’t tell him it was going to be okay.

“No!” Ignis screamed out as he felt himself pulled back out of the window. He yelled and kicked, trying to get away from whoever was pulling him away from his parents. It was only when his fist connected with a mattress instead of a body did his head kick into gear. Dream, right, it was a dream. He lurched up in bed, sitting up so quickly that the springs in his bed groaned in protest. His body was covered in a thin sheen of sweat as he gasped for breath. The room was still completely dark meaning it was probably early morning. The brunette covered his mouth to try and listen to the room, his own frantic breathing much too loud.

He didn’t hear anything. Nothing at all. That meant either his roommate Noctis hadn’t gone to bed yet or he’d woken the other boy up with his yelling.

“We have to get up in like...two hours. So you might as well make yourself some tea. ‘m going back to sleep.” The sleepy voice across the room confirmed the worst. He’d woken him up. At least Noctis was the type of guy who could go right back to sleep no matter what woke him up. But he was right. Sleep would be pointless since he knew closing his eyes would bring him back into that memory. One he did not want to relive.

By the time Ignis got out of bed, he could hear Noctis softly snoring. It was amazing how quickly he could fall back asleep. Good for him. Ignis didn’t bother changing just yet as he moved into the kitchenette as quietly as he could. It had been a long time since he’d had that particular nightmare. With a quiet sigh, he filled a kettle with water and turned on the burner. He knew why it had come back, Noctis knew why it had come back. That didn’t mean he couldn’t pretend and continue to live in denial.

___

“What is up my dudes! I’m so excited, you’re excited, right? This is a big deal~” Prompto nearly threw himself across Noctis’s and Ignis’s shoulders, his smile so bright it lit up the room. Ignis couldn’t help but chuckle as the slightly younger man let go of them only to swing himself in front. He seemed to have limitless energy and excitement, no matter what Prompto was willing to smile.

“You are making it out to be much more than it is.”

“Iggy! Iggy, you’re going to play a solo in front of like, hundreds of people. Hundreds. That is a huge deal!” While he was chirping happily Noctis snuck a worried glance at his roommate. He noticed that Ignis had paled a little but he just shook it off with a small shake of his head.

“And if you keep reminding me you may make me nervous. And late, we should hurry.” Ignis motioned for his friends to walk in front of them as they got on the train so they could head to the concert. Ignis shifted his violin case in front of him to protect it from being bumped. As he did Noctis turned towards him, whispering quietly enough that Prompto didn’t notice them talking.

“Are you going to be okay with this? Prom’s right, that’s...a lot of people.”

“Noct, I will be fine. You do not need to worry.”

“Specs, you barely made it through Prom’s photography exhibition last month and that was like...forty people at max. This is...I just don’t want you to, ya know?” Noctis was clearly worried, his eyes were looking for any sign of weakness. And Ignis understood his worry. They had been friends since they were children and Noctis was one of the only people that knew he had issues with large groups. He’d been there for it, more than once.

Ever since seeing his parents trampled to death, Ignis hated any large groups. He felt like the air was being crushed out of his lungs if there were too many people around. His heart would pound, everything would spin. It was a horrible, awful feeling. As he grew older he learned to avoid it instead of deal with it. He didn’t go to parties or events, he knew the train schedule well enough to avoid any busy times. Even going to college classes was a challenge and he took whatever he could online or sat in the back for an easy escape if he needed.

Joining the orchestra had been a huge step, one prompted by his friends pushing him. Noctis had been trying to get him to join some sort of musical group for years, but Prompto had been the final push. After hearing Ignis play when he was over to play games with Noctis he’d looked completely mesmerized. The little ray of sunshine refused to stop talking about it until Ignis agreed to at least try. He’d told the blond that he was uncertain because of his schedule since Prompto didn’t know about his ‘condition’.

Now, though, that was starting to bite him in the butt. The orchestra was playing in front of hundreds of people and he had been chosen for the violin solo. Which meant he would be standing up in a room with literally hundreds of other people. Just thinking about it was making him feel faint. He clung to his violin a little tighter, feeling Noct’s hand on his back. While he wasn’t worried about the solo, he knew this piece forwards and backwards in his sleep, he was very worried about the crowd. Would he be able to see them? Would something go wrong?

“If I start to feel ill I will tell the conductor. Just in case, one of the other violins also learned the solo so it will be fine.” Ignis stared out the window of the train, purposefully ignoring the eyes on him.

“Man, Iggy, you look really hot in that suit. Um...I meant that...well I kinda meant it both ways. You’ll knock it out of the park, I’m sure. I’m gonna go get our seats, okay? The big guy texted me to say he’s running late but he’ll meet us inside.” Prompto looked so excited that he was bouncing from foot to foot. It had been the same when he’d been able to set up his own exhibition in the local museum. It was part of a larger event but still, people had come to see his photographs. Ignis thought he might die of happiness right on the spot. And now, again, his face was broken in half with a huge smile as his eyes absolutely danced. He gave Ignis’s back a quick pat before walking off to go inside.

“He’s right. You’ll do great. I’m sure it’ll be too dark for you to see anything. If you need to, close your eyes. You can do this, okay?” Noctis placed both of his hands on Ignis’s shoulders, offering him a much smaller smile.

“Thank you, both. Just…”

“I know. We know. If anything happens, exit swiftly and calmly. Don’t worry Ignis. Nothing is going to happen. Just show ‘em how good you are.” His friend pulled him into a quick hug, patting his back before following the blond inside. Right. It was going to be just fine.

___

By the time Ignis finished tuning his violin, his hands were shaking. The ready room was much too small for the size of the orchestra and it was taking all of his willpower not to bolt out the back. People kept brushing by him and each time they did it was like a shock to his heart.

“You drink an espresso before you came or something, Four Eyes?” Aranea was much too close for his liking but asking her to move was pointless. She was the type of girl who would only move closer. She pulled a chair over and sat down next to him, acting a little bit as a buffer between him and the crowd of other musicians.

“No, just a little nervous.”

“You, nervous?” She eyed him in a way that screamed disbelief. “Fine. I don’t pry. But you better calm down before we start. You mess up your solo and you owe me a drink.” She crossed her legs, giving him a mischievous nod. She was bold and much too assertive and yet still they were friends. She played the harp which was a little at odds with how brunt of a person she was, but her musical ear was phenomenal. At first, she asked him out nearly every practice even though he kept turning her down. When he finally told her that he wasn’t interested because he was gay she changed her tactic to asking him out for drinks. She said it would mean she didn’t have to worry about getting drunk but he still refused. Bars had too many people, especially in the evening.

“Just don’t think so hard. You’re a natural when you stop overthinking.” She stood up to chat with the conductor as he walked by, giving Ignis a final flirty wave.

It was almost time for the performance to start so the orchestra started to filter into their seats. Ignis made the mistake of peaking around through the edge of the curtain. The lights were still up and Prompto was right. There were hundreds of people. The brunette managed to rush back to the ready room fast enough so that when he crashed to the ground, at least he was alone.

Ignis felt his pulse race, his heart beating so hard that he couldn’t hear over the rush of his own blood. Even though he was sitting on the floor, everything was spinning around him, like the world had suddenly stumbled into a different rotation and nothing was quite right anymore. He pulled his knees to his chest and leaned against them, trying to calm himself down. But instead, it was getting worse. His heart felt like it was being crushed by an outside force.

“Iggy?” He was so focused on his world shattering in front of him, that Ignis didn’t even hear the voice. He didn’t notice anyone until there was a sudden body half crashing into him as Prompto dropped do his knees so quickly that he heard the crash of bone into tile.

“Iggy! What’s going on, are you okay?” Prompto’s wide blue eyes looked panicked instead of happy. Before the musician could try to fathom why Prompto was here and not in his seat, the other boy was hugging him and rubbing his back.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. I dunno what’s wrong but we’re gonna fix it, okay?” He felt Prompto’s hand find his, wrapping his hand around Ignis’s own as if he was the only connection Ignis had to the world. As his mind narrowed in on his friend he noticed a small bouquet of white flowers sitting at his feet.

“Oh...ya, sorry. I was gonna bring you flowers. Ya know, good luck? Kinda dumb but I…I forgot to bring them earlier” The blond let out an awkward laugh as his face tinted pink across his freckles. If only Prompto was a little bit more distracting maybe he could forget the crushing weight in his chest. As if on command the other man laid his head on Ignis’s shoulder, moving his hand from Ignis’s back into his hair.

“It’s gonna be okay. I’ll stay here until you feel better, okay?” Ignis knew he should feel completely humiliated. But instead, he smiled, just a little. With no idea of what was going on or what to do, Prompto just figured it out. He rushed in to help and did everything he could. He didn’t know that his mere presence was a comfort or that feeling his blond hair tickle against his neck was helping drag him out of his head and into the real world. His friend hmmed quietly against his neck, just holding him and waiting. He was patient, kind, innocent. Ignis loved those things about him.

“Thank you, Prompto. But I need too-”

“Are you okay? If you’re not you don’t need to do anything.” Prompto sat up and looked him in the eye as he spoke. Normally his face looked so sweet but now there was so seriousness to it that he’d never seen. Like Prompto would force him to sit here until he was okay. That was also comforting in and of itself.

“I”m okay. But can you, can I trouble you to stay back here? Just in case I need to…”

“Decompress? Ya, sure. I can still hear it from back here. I just wanna hear ya. It’s gonna be alright, Iggy.” Prompto placed both of his hands on the sides of his face, offering another sunshine like smile.

“You don’t like people, right? It’s none of my business, I know. But I kinda guessed a while ago. So if the people make you scared, just don’t look at ‘em. Just think of me, sitting back here all by myself. You like to play for just us, so play for just us. Noct and Gladio sitting in the seats, me sitting back here. Close your eyes and pretend you’re only playing for a crowd of three.” Ignis nodded, gently pulling Prompto’s hands down. He was right, he only needed to play for a crowd of three.

“Thank you, Prompto. I will do my best. Hold onto the flowers for me until I’m done, if you will.” The blond nodded and picked up the bouquet as they both stood up. Prompto dusted off Ignis’s clothes until they looked spotless, like before. Luckily his violin had still been in its case when he dropped it to the floor, protected.

“I’ll be waiting for you, okay Iggy~ Do your best.”

#whumptober2020 #fic #no.18 #no.28 #Panic Attacks #Accidents #Final Fantasy XV #FFXV #panic attacks tw #crushed to death tw #gore tw #Ignis Scientia #Noctis Lucis Caelum #Prompto Argentum #Ignis/Prompto #Modern AU

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Lies of Omission - Whumptober 2020 Fic

Entry Number 17 for Whumptober 2020: Blackmail / Dirty Secret

Title: Lies of Omission Fandom: Final Fantasy XV Pairing: None Rating: M Trigger Warnings: Please see the Ao3 link. Summary: Some part of Ignis knows that this is out of control, that the cold ghost of hands across his skin is wrong. That spending his nights wrapped up in a secret will come back to bite him. But someone has to suffer and he won't let it be Noctis.

Full fic located on Ao3 due to content. This work is rated mature/nsfw. Additional tags are located in the Ao3 link due to tumblr’s content policies.

Everything was starting to fall apart. The teetering Jenga tower of omissions, half-truths, and bald-faced lies was finally starting to topple just a little faster than Ignis could try to prop it up again with a stiff apology or flattering word. He needed to stay ten steps ahead of the falling blocks, covering them up before anyone noticed anything amiss but he was starting to feel like everyone had seen his attempts at camouflage all along. What was worse, was that it started so small, so simple.

Full link - Here

#whumptober2020 #fic #no.17 #Blackmail #Dirty Secret #FFXV #Final Fantasy XV #Non-Consensual Somnophilia tw #additional trigger warnings located on Ao3 due to tumblr rules #nsfw #nsfwhump #Ignis Scientia #Noctis Lucis Caelum #Gladiolus Amicitia

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Shatter Me - Whumptober 2020 Fic

Entry Number 16 and 24 for Whumptober 2020: Hallucinations and Forced Mutism

Title: Shatter Me Fandom: None - Original Pairing: None Rating: T Trigger Warnings: Gore Summary: Justice hated magic. While it was useful at times, particularly in putting people back together any time one of their crusades went a little bit sideways, but most of the time it was just used to mess with their heads.

Cross posted on Ao3

Justice hated magic. While it was useful at times, particularly in putting people back together any time one of their crusades went a little bit sideways, but most of the time it was just used to mess with their heads. The paladin spread his wings and tried to force words past his lips but it was as if his vocal cords were frozen in time, unable to utter more than an angry grunt. In response to his intent to scream and swear and tell the other two that it was an illusion, he saw the flick of the tiefling’s hand. Despite knowing what was coming he couldn’t brace himself and so he just stood in place, trying not to bite off his own tongue as a boom of thunder erupted right in front of him and the force knocked through his body like a tidal wave.

The force threw him to the ground but this time he didn’t bother trying to stand. Whatever spell that had been cast over him that was freezing him in place was clearly affecting his friends as well. They seemed to see him as the enemy, although what kind of enemy he wasn’t sure. They both looked a little unsure so he was probably being disguised as something they hadn’t fought before, or his paralytic lack of movement was making them uneasy.

Previously he had tried to flap his black wings, to free feathers or try to speak whatever spell was causing them to hallucinate. For some reason, his wings weren’t locked in place by any sort of restraint or spell. Shackles held his arms tight behind his back and a spell kept him silent and stood in place. If they made it out of this alive, they both owed him, big time.

With a sore huff, Justice managed to stand up, just long enough to see the other two readying another attack. This time, the pint-sized monk was eyeing him, or more-so the hallucination that existed in the same spot. She was saying something, probably some sort of taunt, but her words became disjointed by the time they reached him. She almost seemed to vanish before she was in front of him, her eyes narrowed into deadly slits. She threw her right arm into his chest so hard he heard at least one rib snap. Before his body could even finish absorbing the force of the fist another connected with the same spot, and then another, the three punches pushed him back into the wall of the cave. One of his wings snapped from the pressure of his body slamming into the wall with enough force to shatter bone.

He tried to suck in a breath now that his lungs had been forced into his throat. Instead of breathing, though, he ended up coughing, spitting up blood onto the cave floor in front of him. Great. Normally he appreciated Sumi’s no-holds-barred fighting style but normally he wasn’t on the other end of it. Before he could even try to recover from the attack he felt a familiar crackle in the air. All the aasimar could do was shut his eyes before two bolts of energy slammed into his body like magical spears.

Slowly he slumped down the wall, his body crumbling under the damage. His armor had been taken off when he’d been unconscious so now there was nothing protecting him from their assault. Sumi was on him again, fists flying. Luckily the hallucination didn’t seem to move exactly with him. Since he’d slumped down out of pain, her fists crushed into the wall, splintering rock like it was nothing and showering them both with rubble. The half-elf was yelling something that came across his ears as garbled nothing but the tiefling seemed to understand. They both moved back, undaunted by their strange enemy.

Since staying still was probably going to get him killed, flashbacks of the tiefling Fenrir summoning a wave of acid were at the forefront of his mind, Justice slowly rolled onto his knees. There had to be a way to break the spell. Or at least get them to back off for now. There was only so much abuse his body could take. His right wing was already sagging at his side, the bone clearly shattered. The cave was too small for him to try and fly, anyway, there was barely room over his head.

With a deep-seated determination, he tried to yell again, feeling the painful paralysis of his chest that had gone from annoying to painful. Nothing. He couldn’t even make noises of pain. Fenrir was starting to cast another spell which meant that his life was probably hanging in the balance. He would just have to apologize later. No, no apologies, they hit him first.

Pulling from the well of anger that, half the time, was the only thing keeping him alive, Justice lunged forward. With his arms shackled behind his back, he was rather limited in what he could do; however, he was pissed. His sudden movement seemed to catch both of them off guard. Sumi dodged to the side, her honed instincts keeping her out of harm’s way. Fenrir wasn’t so lucky. His spell smashed into the wall that he had once been in front of as his shoulder hit the tiefling right in the neck. It wouldn’t be a deadly wound, he wasn’t even bleeding, but hopefully, it would keep him from speaking for a few minutes. That would negate most of his spells.

Before Justice could spin around and try to figure out how to down a monk with literally just his body, he felt a sharp pain in his gut. It was only then, Fenrir on the ground below him, that he remembered. While he was a sorcerer first, his friend was never without his dagger close at hand. The blade ripped through his gut, magical ice digging even deeper as the spell bounced off the weapon. At first, Justice didn’t think the wound was that deep. Then he heard a sickening wet plop and the entire world seemed to tilt right.

The aasimar tumbled to the ground in an uncoordinated pile of wings, limbs, and Fenrir, blood pooling between them. As he did the spells faded. Sumi and Fenrir no longer saw an enraged Mind Flayer, hurling spells at them but a bloody mess of a paladin, broken and twisted between them. His words finally freed, Justice let out a muffled cry, twisting both anger and regret.

“Justice!” Sumi rushed over to her friends, doing her best to turn the angel-winged boy onto his side. His stomach was bleeding pretty badly and it looked like his insides were coming outside. With a loud, piercing “eww” she shoved her hands over the wound despite the disgusting feeling of blood seeping through her fingers. His breathing seemed shallow and he wasn’t yelling at them which was a pretty bad sign.

“Fenrir, what do we do?!” The sorcerer had pulled himself out from under the bleeding paladin just in time to take in the damage. It was clear that their ‘enemy’ had been their friend all along but he didn’t have time to let guilt settle in his stomach. Instead, he reached into a bag, forcing himself to be calm. All they needed was a healing potion. If they could get him from death’s door then Justice could heal himself. To his side Fenrir heard the other gasp in for air, his breathing becoming slow and uneven. Finally, he grasped a potion, pulling the small vial from his bag. Justice's face was pale and his blue eyes looked entirely unfocused. Sumi was still pressing on the bloody gash across his stomach but it was much larger than her small hands could cover.

“Tip his head up, he needs to swallow the potion.” Sumi nodded at the instructions, letting go of the bleeding gut long enough to continue turning the aasimar on his back. It was an awkward position since his wings were bunched under his back and his arms were still shackled but at least he was on his back. The monk gently touched his face, tilting his head and opening his mouth. His eyes wandered to the side, meeting hers for a moment before slowly slipping closed.

“Fenrir! Now!” She shrieked, a sudden panic pooling in her chest. He was dying, like really dying. Right here between them. Fenrir forced the bitter liquid into his mouth and lifted his head enough to make him swallow through gravity alone. There was a beat of total silence, both Sumi and Fenrir holding their breath. Then the silence was broken but a shuddering breath that sounded like the rattling of a bag of bones.

“He’s alive!” Sumi let out a heavy breath as she started to pull at fabric on Justice’s clothes to wrap up the wound. Fenrir dropped his head, equally as thankful but significantly more muted in his display. Carefully they treated the wounds, making camp in place until their friend was recovered enough to use his own magic to heal. None of them discussed the incident in detail but Justice didn’t let either of them forget why he had a scar all the way across his gut. Neither did he forget that they saved his life.

#whumptober2020 #fic #no.16 #no.24 #hallucinations #forced mutism #OC #Dungeons and Dragons inspired #D&D #DnD #gore tw

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