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Chapter Text

Ignis didn't actually understand what was happening at first, which, considering who he was, caught him rather off guard. He was the advisor of the prince. He had all the answers of any level of import.

Except for, apparently, this one.

It wasn't actually Ignis's fault for not knowing. Bird Zóa tended to live in the vast hills of Tenebrae, and he had technically stood by the prince since the tender age of nine, living in Lucis with his uncle long before that, who, unlike himself, was one of the 'blessless,' more commonly referred to as human.

Due to his upbringing, he had little to no contact with his avian brethren and thus knew very little about them. He knew even less about what it meant to be a Phenix type Avian Zóa, beyond the fact that one of his feathers, if given willingly in his majority, could bring someone back from the brink of death.

It went without saying that he knew almost nothing about avian instincts or habits beyond what he learned about himself as he grew. He was way too involved with taking care of the young prince and figuring out how to best aid Noctis as a Feline, Carbuncle type Zóa than to be selfish enough to use that time to learn about his own blessing from the Six.

So, obviously, when the small blonde human showed up on the palace steps with an invitation from Noctis, he didn't immediately recognize the strange pull towards the prince's classmate for what it was.

At first he thought he felt more protective over the human simply because of how weak it was, and how vulnerable it would be to a Zóa attack. He also considered his strange obsession for the commoner's safety was caused by how quickly the other had wormed its way into the Prince's hardened heart. Should the boy befall some sort of harm, the prince might become even more unreachable than he had been before.

Despite the fact that Prompto was a human and an outsider of the palace, he found himself growing irritatingly fond of the little blessless. Irritatingly because he didn't know why he was becoming so fond of the human friend of the prince – A boy that was more likely to shoot himself in the foot than strike up an intellectually stimulating conversation.

He hadn't immediately noticed the way his wings stretched when he first caught sight of the other, flexing as if to show how strong and big they were. After all, he couldn't exactly see his wings from where they were behind his back. Even if he had felt them, well, he had been cooped up at his desk all day, hunched over stacks of grueling reports like usual. If he hadn't realized that, then he most definitely didn't notice the way they shifted incrementally so no matter what position he was standing in, they were always pointed invitingly towards the stranger.

Just a few weeks later, he did take note that it was a little more than odd when he found his wings had subconsciously cupped themselves behind the boy's shoulders as he guided him trough the castle, almost protectively. It was rather baffling how they had a mind of their own, wrapping around the other, practically dragging him to their destination while curling tightly around him to the point of completely smothering the other's whole body in feathers when someone else passed them in the hall. They would have probably remained, had Prompto not sneezed into them.

Still, he probably would have forgotten the strange incident had he not spent the entire night after frustratedly and meticulously cleaning and rearranging his feathers. During that long and arduous task, he was able to reflect on his odd behavior properly, because it was very unusual for him to use his wings in such a manner.

Three hours and two wings of beautifully groomed, fiery-gold feathers later, he was able to simply write the incident off as a minor one. After all, the boy was easily distracted and would no doubt have wandered off if he hadn't helped guide him. That, along with the fact that he didn't want the human to get into trouble with one of the Zóa guards, who were extremely territorial and suspicious of outsiders.

He did think it was kind of odd that, when he came across a stall selling shimmering jewelry in the market, the first thing that caught his eyes he instantly bought for the young human's already large collection of wrist bangles.

No body else at the market questioned it. He was an avian Zóa. It wasn't unusual for his kind to buy bright, shimmering gems and metals to decorate apartments with, or find the occasion to wear such items out.

It was unusual for his kind to want to give such items away instead of hoard them in a nest.

As he drove home, he almost talked himself into keeping it. It was beautiful and rather expensive…

But, when he arrived back at the palace and walked past Noctis sparring with Gladio in the front lawn while the blond human watched on from a safe distance away, he couldn't help but thrust the package at the baffled blond, stating that he had seen it and thought he would like it in a voice that brooked no arguments and probably came across as hostile to the teen. It also more than likely made the boy rethink his initial reaction to politely decline the offer. Ignis had noticed that, if presented with something above his station, Prompto would often try to refuse the gift.

Confusingly, when the baffled teen stuttered a thank you at the oddly shaped, parchment wrapped item being thrust at him and smiled shyly up from beneath golden lashes, he felt his face heat up.

Before Prompto could properly open his gift and figure out what exactly he was thanking him for, Ignis had rushed away, easily convincing himself that the sun was particularly hot that day to have made his skin flush so quickly.

The next time he saw the boy he scanned the boy's wrists. His feathers fluffed happily to note that the bracelet adorned his slender wrist… though maybe it was just a draft.

Actually, yeah. It was more than likely just the wind that disturbed his feathers now that he thought back on it. That made a lot more sense than the alternative.

Then, he began to realize how often he had been trying to feed the other since the very beginning of the odd friendship. Which was easy to write off at first, considering how Prompto and Noctis became nearly inseparable after just a few weeks of 'hanging out.' When he cooked for the prince, it was just natural to cook an extra portion for his new acquaintance.

Noctis's friend was far to thin to be healthy anyway. So what if he did begin watching for reactions when he brought out the food so he could better remember the boy's likes and dislikes for next time? He had done something similar with Noctis. He had an entire filing cabinet in his office devoted to recipes he knew the prince loved, hated, and ones he had yet to try.

It was normal. For him, at least.

He couldn't prevent his instincts from driving him to feed the malnourished human the best of his cooking, nor could he prevent himself from being somewhat offended when Noctis's friend refused his attempts to provide a healthy meal in a irritatingly modest and self depreciating way that set his feathers on edge. He was just trying to prove his worth. As an advisor. Obviously. Because that was what he was. An advisor to the prince. Nothing else.

Eventually, though, he began to shove food at the boy even when Noctis was out or busy with training.

At every turn he tried to force extra food on him, purposefully putting additional veggies in dinners and packed lunches, knowing the kind blonde would eat the Prince's portion in hopes his friend wouldn't get in trouble with his advisor. It was a cheep trick, but he couldn't help but smile smugly every time both Noctis and his friend handed him back clean plates.

He finally admitted to himself something was terribly wrong with this strange new boy after around the six month marker, when he found himself carding his hands through the other's hair like he was preening his own feathers.

He played it off as if he saw something in the younger human's hair. No one else had been party to that embarrassing fiasco except himself and the human, but if they had been, they would have called him out on it.

Despite the fact he didn't know many others like himself, it was common knowledge that Avian Zóa avoided grooming anyone else's hair, fur or feathers unless they saw them as family or mates. And he definitely didn't know this human long enough to consider it part of his flock. Even then, he rarely attempted to tame Noctis or Gladio's wild manes, and he had known both long enough to consider them his flock.

Avians' propensity for avoiding contact was understandable, considering their easily disturbed, very sensitive feathers that took hours to fix and seconds to upset. It was well known to the general public that Avians often chose cleanliness and well maintained feathers over physical interactions. Considering they hated being touched by others, they avoided touching others as well, only initiating contact by grooming as a sign to another that they would be comfortable enough to have them do the same. Ignis was fairly certain he was not comfortable with the human to invite him to touch his feathers, much less groom them like he was doing to the surprisingly feathery, messy blond locks.

Thankfully, the human had a low enough self esteem and was simply to dense to realize what such a touch meant.

Despite the fact nothing came from the incident, that was when Ignis knew something was very wrong.

Later that very night, he did something he should have done a long time before; He looked up a book on Avian type Zóa rituals.

After a few minutes of carding through the seemingly unused tome, he found himself in a chapter titled 'mating.'

The color drained from his face as each word seared itself into his mind. With no small amount of dread, he realized that he had done just about everything listed in the book with the human, only with the exception of building a nest for his intended and copulating.

He fed his intended, and proved his might through excessive posturing, and trust by bearing the soft under-feathers of his wings. He gifted his intended with a mating present (which were often shiny, brightly colored objects, and were rarely removed if the gesture was accepted). Finally, he tried to groom his potential mate.

The only thing about the entire scenario that didn't fit and gave him hope that he was wrong was how he had tried to mate with a human. Which, the book stated, was not possible.

Sure Zóa and Humans ended up together all the time, but there was never the same spark that caused animal instincts to come to the forefront. Human and Zóa couples generally underwent human mating habits, such as dating and, eventually, marriage, but their bond was never as strong as the one that existed between two Zóa or two Humans. Instinctual Zóa mating habits like the ones he was exhibiting only happened when one Zóa encountered a compatible Zóa's scent. Something about how animal instincts were only possible when another animal pheromone was present.

That was something a human such as Prompto shouldn't have.

Didn't have.

Would never have.

No matter if it was impossible or not, Ignis decided he needed to back off. Because, even though it was obviously impossible for him to be trying to court the young human, what if someone else made the same connections and thought he was trying to mate with Noctis's new friend? His strange interactions had the potential of ruining a budding friendship.

Prompto was a good influence on the prince, even getting the miserly young Carbuncle to laugh for the first time in a very long time, his jewel going from an angsty red to a peaceful blue that Ignis nearly forgot existed, not to mention poor Prompto was obviously oblivious to Ignis's animalistic instincts' possible intention.

Which was a blessing in disguise. He didn't want to scare off the one of the few people outside the castle that Noctis actually seemed to express any emotions around. Even if he was a blessless.

Suddenly, work became a whole lot more important to him, and a lot harder to focus on. He rarely had time to check on Noctis and his friend. Though, he couldn't help but be drawn to the sound of laughter from the Prince's quarters as he passed them to run errands, or the way he would see flashes of gold in the corner of his eyes almost everywhere he went, instantly double checking to see if it was Prompto's hair that he overlooked.

It was even harder specifically because, unbeknownst to Ignis, avian Zóa mated for life. If he would have kept reading the book instead of hiding it and every single one like it in the castle guiltily after finding what he was looking for, he would have known that the only way to end an avian's unfinished mating bond once it was initiated, intentionally or not, was death or to be declined by the other. Though, Prompto wasn't even aware enough of himself to truly know what he was accepting. He was far too much of a people pleaser to turn the advisor's attentions away, even if he hadn't liked it.

The entire situation made Ignis feel dirty the more he sat in his study, his mind occasionally flitting back to the interactions with a grimace when the paperwork got too dull to keep his attention. His inner animal was trying to- to 'get with' Prompto, the poor, innocent, obviously attention starved human who just wanted to make people happy and smile.

It made him physically sick as his logical mind went to war with his animal instincts.

Still, he lasted three long weeks making excuses not to see the boy, though he could never completely stop thinking about those bright, crystal blue eyes and that cheery smile.

He was almost happy when it came to an end one day.

His brain was becoming numb to all of the endless reports he used to distract himself from the screaming in his mind to check on the boy, and the emptiness in his chest unknowingly caused by ignoring and neglecting an unfinished bond.

It needed to come to an end sooner or later, before he worried and worked himself to death. But he couldn't say he was happy with how he was brought back into Prompto's life.

It was Monday of his fourth Prompto free week when Noctis threw the door open in a blind panic. It said a lot about Ignis's character that he didn't even blink at the interruption of his peace and quiet. Even his feathers, which showed more emotions than he actually did, refused to be ruffled.

"Ignis! Come quick!" Noctis panted, yet still, Ignis kept his eyes glued to the report, intentionally tuning the younger Zóa out.

The prince had a very bad habit of interrupting him with the most inane babble in order to peel him away from his desk for a few hours. Ignis wasn't interested in humoring his charge today, though. Especially considering how he knew that he would more than likely run into the Prince's friend.

The next words out of his charges mouth though, they had his attention. "Gladio got a bit out of control! He was showing Prompto some moves, and I don't know what he did, but there is blood everywhere, and Prompto—!"

The sound of the pen in his hands shattering caused the prince's panicked ranting to come to a halt. His wings twitched, and this time he had enough sense of self to realize that it was not caused by the ink that splattered against them from the way he crushed the writing instrument. In fact, he didn't even notice the ink until much later.

The report that previously held his full attention fluttered back to the desk, forgotten as his mind jumped at the confusing words that had tumbled from the prince's lips.

Ignis felt his heart stutter at the thought of the small, delicate human against Gladio, a Monster type Zóa. That heart stopping terror turned into righteous anger as he drew away from his desk, rounding it with deadly grace. "Who in their right mind thought that would be a good idea?!"

Ignis saw Noctis take a hesitant step back and put his hands up placatingly, eyes wide in… fear? Shock?

It was only then that he realized his wings had fully extended and he stood to his fullest height, feathers standing on end because of the tension thrumming through his body.

It didn't help his situation that the prince, being a carbuncle, was empathic, subconsciously sending out signals when he was too panicked to control it.

Ignis's reaction was probably not helping the situation, either. Despite the fact that Avian Zóa were often underestimated as weaker due to their hollow bone structure and thinner stature, they were down right terrifying to behold when angry, and violently aggressive when their nests and mates were in danger. It was reported that, when threatened, one Avian could take out an entire pack of wild coeurl, no problem. While he and Prompto may not have been fully mated, his inner creature didn't seem to completely recognize that fact. It was ready to kill and eliminate the threat.

At the look of horror on Noctis's face he realized what a sight he must have been and tried to reel it in. He closed his eyes and adjusted his glasses while willing his feathers and wings into a neutral position before Noctis suspected something wasn't completely kosher. "My apologies."

He didn't know exactly what he was apologizing for, but it seemed to be the right thing to say considering the whirlwind of panic that had flooded the room almost instantly dissipated, meaning Noctis had regained control of his accidental empathic projection.

He must have done a terrible job of masking his anger still, that or Noctis was still able to sense how tense he was with his powers, because after a moment of silence he heard a hesitant, "Shit, Iggy. You overwork yourself again?" from Noctis's direction.

Ignis nodded and pushed his way past Noctis now that his wings were relaxed enough to walk through the doorway without banging them on it. He tried to keep a sedate pace, but his feathers twitched a bit as if wanting him to take off in the direction his– that Prompto was in.

"I will ask again, why was a human in a spar against a Monster class Zóa?" Ignis finally forced out from between clenched teeth, keeping his eyes forward as he took turn after turn through the maze-like castle to the training rooms.

"It was Gladio's idea," Noctis informed, panting as he jogged next to his advisor in order to keep up. "He said it would be good for Prom to know how to hold his own against a Zóa if he was going to be around me so often. He agreed. Reluctantly, but he did agree," he defended lamely. "He was even holding his own for a while! I was surprised a human could keep up with Gladio like that! I mean, some days I have a hard time with him, and I am a Feline Zóa! I'm supposed to be fast!"

Ignis did not like the way the prince went silent for a moment. He looked over and saw the way the color had drained from his features, the gem on his forehead suddenly casting a sickening green light over his furrowed brow as his ears pressed deeper into his hair. He had only seen Noctis's gem go such a sickening color once before, around the time of the incident.

"I don't think he counted on the tail, though," he muttered under his breath. "And he didn't do much more than dodge and avoid oncoming attacks, but he did better than I expected. Probably would have kept surpassing expectations except… after a few moments Gladio lost composure."

Ignis still didn't respond. It was safer that way. He didn't want to say anything until he had fully assessed the situation.

Noctis's hand shot out and pulled the ruffled advisor to a full stop just a few feet before they reached the training room, forcing the agitated Zóa to listen to what he was saying.

"I don't know what set him off, but his tail lashed out," he explained. "It knocked Prom's feet out from under him, and then Gladiolus's eyes went all black. You know, like they do when he berserks? Then…" Noctis gave a full body shiver at the memory. "It was like watching a nature special where your best friend is the anak calf and your teacher is a… well, I can't really think to describe him as anything but a behemoth. Prom didn't stand a chance. The wind was knocked out of him from when he fell, and then, in a matter of seconds Gladio was on top of him, biting into his neck."

Ignis did not like the direction this story was going. "And you left him alone with Gladio just to get me?"

Noctis shook his head vehemently. "No! Thankfully, Nyx was passing by. He jumped in and zapped Gladio to his senses and pulled them apart. I think Gladio is currently trying to drown himself in the shower. Nyx was keeping Prompto stable when I left, and we already called medics, but I figured I should get you… because I really need your help, Iggy." Noctis was on the verge of tears, his voice painfully horse from biting back the sorrow and the gem on his forehead shifting to a nervous shade of light yellow.

"Iggy, he is my… what if he doesn't-" Ignis knew that his charge is biting back the words 'make it,' but he couldn't bring himself to force that thought into the quiet of the empty hall. "Or-or what if he realizes how dangerous life is with me and decides… that I'm not worth the trouble anymore?"

Ignis nodded curtly. "I am not sure I can fix everything, but I will try. Let us focus on one problem at a time, starting with your friend." He placed his hand on the prince's back, carefully guiding the younger Zóa forward, noticing the way his charge's long, dark tail was hanging unusually still just below.

He would deal with Gladio later. For now, the prince and Prompto needed him. He would not let himself get distracted by the idea of killing one of the few people he considered a long time friend and even part of his unorthodox flock.

Because, if Prompto died, he would most definitely kill Gladio. That was a fact.

Chapter Text

~Sometime prior to the incident~

There were many things Regis would come to regret about his role in life, and even some things that he came to disdain to the point of avoidance. Most of those things were within the papers and scrolls piled high on his desk, each one a letter, bill or law begging for his undivided attention. It was times like these that Regis could do nothing but stare and wonder if he could get through the day as he questioned the will of the Gods for granting him such a high ranking position and blessing.

He groggily looked up from one of his pages with fatigued, bleary eyes and checked the clock, frowning to himself deeply when he blinked enough sleep away to see what time it was.

Noctis was more than likely tucked away in bed.  Usually, Regis liked to make time to do it himself, but ever since Ignis had showed up he made sure the young prince was in bed at a decent hour, whether the King showed up or not. It was probably a good thing, despite how much he loathed to admit that a young child was a better care giver to his own son than he could be.

He just wished there was more time in the day. He also wished he could be the father his son deserved, but it was already 12:02, and once again, his son would find a way to live without him. The world kept spinning, as much as he wished it wouldn’t.  He pushed away from his desk, deciding that he, like his son, needed rest.

His poor old heart nearly gave out at the sight of three glowing red orbs in his doorway. He readied himself to summon a weapon before halting at the sound of it’s voice.

"Daddy, I'm lonely," the younger carbuncle whimpered as he pushed the door open further to reveal his glowing eyes and gem.

The king felt his heart throb at the sight of his young son, trailing a stuffy moogle behind him. For a moment, Regis paused to try to remember his son's age.  What kind of a father was he that he couldn't even remember something so basic.

The sound of footsteps pounding down the hall beyond the doorway made the young carbuncle’s ears flatten and his tail lash out wildly as he raced to hide behind his father, practically climbing the back of the surprised King's robes in his rush to hide from the new intruder… who physically fell face first into the room.

When the new, small figure looked up at the tall, intimidating form of the King, rather than stand like a normal person, he flattened himself even more into the carpet, small wings stuttering and going limp on either side of his body. Well, as limp as stiff, bandage and cast covered wings could get when he attempted to prostrate himself. "Your highness! My apologies. I put the prince to bed hours ago, but apparently it didn't take."

The king laughed at the young child, bending down to lift the flustered boy off the floor, trying to avoid jostling the additional injured limbs unnecessarily while his son was clinging to his back, hissing under his breath at the young caretaker. "You tried, Ignis. I don't expect so much from you in your current state. I can take care of Noctis from here. You go rest."

The young, winged boy flushed lightly, nervously picking at the bandages and avoiding eye contact as the king pealed him off the floor, then sent him to bed with a kindly smile.

Once the small bird boy was sent back to his quarters with assurances that the king was not mad at him, he focused on getting his son to release his hold.

"Giving Ignis trouble again, I see?"

"I don' wanna sleep!" Noctis replied, large ears plastered sulkily to the side of his head. "Iggy is a big meany!"

Regis chuckled under his breath. "Well, now, I know that is not true. Ignis lets you play with his toys, and doesn't complain when you break them. And you do break all of them. He is simply trying to take care of you and make sure you are safe and well rested while I take care of a few things. Okay?"

"But he won't tell me a bedtime story." The boy pouted, his oversized ears drooping to the side with his eyebrows. The king quickly decided that it was a good thing his son wasn’t a canine Zóa, because he already had the puppy-eyes down to a T.

The king picked his son up and carried him out of the room in the direction of his bed. "Did you ask for him to tell you a story."

Noctis didn't answer, but pressed his face further into his father's neck.

"If you want something, you have to use your words."

"Can you tell me a bedtime story?"

"I will if you say please?"

"Please!"

Regis finally reached his son's bedroom, and he plopped the boy on his bed.

Noctis giggled and twisted in the sheets when his father pulled them over his head, popping right back up a moment later. His ears were perked and his eyes were wide and brightly glowing with the reflection of their combined gems in the room.  Regis knew his son wasn't going to fall asleep that easily.

He sighed and perched himself on the edge of the bed. What was another hour at near one in the morning anyway. "How about I tell you the story of a dashing young Carbuncle prince like yourself?"

"Yeah!"

"Okay, but it's a long one. Think you can stay awake?"

"Yes! Does it have pictures?"

"No. But if you close your eyes, you can imagine the pictures for me, and tomorrow, maybe you can draw them?"

"Okay!" The boy clenched his eyes tightly shut, preparing his imagination for the story to come.

"Okay. So, once upon a time, there was a lonely prince Carbuncle,” he started. “Like his father before him, he was blessed by the gods with big, handsome ears, a long, strong tail, and a big, bright gem in the middle of his forehead."

Noctis's eyes popped open and he bolted up. "Hey! That's like me!"

"Yes, very much like the one you have on your head. Now lay back and listen to the story like you promised me you would."

The boy nodded and snuggled back under the covers.

"Now, this carbuncle's father, the king, was jaded by his gift. While many don’t know it, Carbuncles are extremely empathic and can sense what another entity is feeling. If a Carbuncle feels threatened or can sense greed, its gem will cast an intense light upon the foe's eyes, causing a temporary blindness before scarpering away to safety. It was a trait given by the Gods, meant to help protect the royal line, but often, when people are introduced to royalty they are overcome with greed or the want to hurt. This caused many first time interactions to be blinding. In order not to let the young prince learn of the pain of greed, or the many other negative emotions in the kingdom, he kept the prince occupied in the castle, surrounded only by books, and those he trusted. And the young prince grew to love and trust those few that surrounded him, and he was content for a while."

"What happened then?"

"Well, the Prince's father died, and so, he became the king. Sadly, he knew little to nothing about his empathic link to the world before being thrust onto the throne. He was very sickly, and had a hard time adjusting to a large amount of people. His gem painfully flared at almost everyone, because he almost always felt threatened because of the way his father raised him to fear the outside world. Eventually, the outside world began to fear him for being so different. One day, one of his most trusted advisors told him to leave the palace for a while, and search the country in disguise, get to know the people, and possibly fall in love.

“The prince now king was sure he would never learn to love, nor would he meet someone who's emotions would match their spoken intent. Even his fellow Zóa and councilmen avoided touching him for fear of blinding themselves, even temporarily, and so, the young king was very alone. He eventually took his advisor's advice and left with a few of his most trusted, and he entrusted the rule of his kingdom to the expert hands of his wise advisor while he was gone."

"Where did he go?"

"Well, one day during his travels he heard about a beautiful lady. She was so beautiful, and so kind, that everyone was jealous. The women were jealous of how she looked, and the way she captured everyone's attention when she entered a room, and the men were jealous for her affections."

"Wow! She must have been a feline Zóa like me!"

Regis couldn’t hold back the laugh that broke free at his son’s declaration. "No, she was not."

"Was she pretty and puffy like Iggy?"

"Guess again!"

"I can't imagine someone so beautiful being a Niflheim dog, or a big scary beast like Gladio and his dad.” Noctis paused, finger tapping on his chin in an adorable imitation of something he must have seen a politician in court do. “Was she an Altician Merperson?"

"She was none of the above. She wasn't even Zóan! She was a normal, but very far from average, human lady. Her beauty and charity far surpassed that of any Zóa, and she refused to be wooed by Zóa who thought they deserved her time just because the gods deemed them more important than she.” The King smiled fondly as he spoke, brushing a hand through his son’s soft hair. “She was strong, independent, kind and lovely. And, hearing so much good about this selfless young woman, the king set out to meet with her, partially out of spite, wishing to prove to the world that she was just the same as all of the others, and that his gem would flash after she touched him too."

"That's mean!"

"Well, the king had grown cold hearted after years of isolating himself so he wouldn't be burdened with the overbearing emotions of people, and the selfishness of many men and Zóa on his court," the king explained with a gentle smile.

"Still sounds like a meany."

"Wouldn't you be a little mean too,” Regis asked, “if you didn't get any hugs anymore because you couldn't trust, or were too frightened to trust?"

"But I have you!" Noctis launched out of his covers with a grin, latching himself around his father’s midsection like a squid.

"But the king's father died long ago,” Regis reminded, patting his son on the back while guiding him back to his place in the sheets.

"Oh.” Noctis frowned in contemplation, like his little child brain couldn’t fully comprehend the idea of a world with no one to hug. “But that still doesn't excuse him to be mean!"

"No it did not. But he was anyway, and he raced off to meet with the young woman, hoping to prove she was just as greedy as others, but better at hiding it. Maybe, just maybe, deep under all that hate and animosity towards the world, he hoped to be proven wrong, and that her kindness would outshine even his own stone. So, he and his few select companions set out to find and meet with this strange woman."

"Did he ever meet with her?"

“Amusingly enough, he did, though he didn't know it was her at the time. They finally tracked her location to a small town on the outside of the main city, and on his way to find this woman he got very lost, and even separated from his friends. Lost and confused and surrounded on all sides by the harsh emotions of the crowds of the city, he passed out. Had he been traveling in his normal gear, he would have been killed, but he was in disguise, and the people passed him by as if he were simply a sick beggar on the street."

"Oh, no!” Noctis gasped. “Did he die!"

"No, but around this same time, a beautiful woman came across his hooded, unconscious form. She lifted him off the streets with only her will strengthening her, and she took him into her house in order to nurse him back to health."

"Yay!"

"When the king woke, he realized that he had been saved, and figured the woman who saved him must have only done it because she recognized him. When he stormed in to confront her, he grabbed her arm and, instantly, the moment his skin touched her's, he knew there was good in the world. He could feel her love for the world, and so much more, that he was shocked. Instead of trying to have her arrested, he got down on one knee, and informed her of who he was, removing a scarf on his forehead and showing her his gem. He told her he was the king, and even after learning this, his gem didn't flare. Once he was certain, he told her that anything he had to offer was hers to keep, she just needed to ask. She told him that all she wanted was for him to smile. When he said that he would never be able to smile without her standing beside him, she agreed to never be apart from him, as to make sure he carried through on his promise to her. And, soon, very soon, the two fell in love, and they wed, and not too long after that the now happy king's wife was with child…"

———————————————————

Noctis humphed to himself, shaking out of old memories of cheesily told stories from his childhood, and refocusing on the front of the class as his teacher went over the perimeters of their next assignment.

By the time Noctis was old enough for public school he had stopped liking that dumb story. Noctis also grew to hate public schools, along with many other things his young self was once was excited for. There was a reason he grew to sympathize with the king in the story, sympathy that his younger self had been too innocent to understand, and that reason was this: Everything was stupid. Including himself when he was younger.

More specifically, people in general were stupid, both Zóa and human kind alike. He didn’t discriminate.

The worst part was, because of his nature, he could literally taste, smell and feel how terrible they all were. The more people there were around him, the worse it got. And the worse it got, the harder it was for him to function on a basic level.

Classes were hard enough for an empath without being surrounded by a sea of testosterone filled, angst ridden, hormonal jerks that delighted in teasing, upsetting and hurting each other for entertainment rather than just showing up to learn. Being a prince made that harder, as he was a great target for unfounded gossip and obviously everyone wanted a piece of him, weather it was because they wanted to hurt him because of his father, politics, or how he was famous and rich.

Not to mention that he had a giant fucking stone in the middle of his Ifrit damned forehead that, if anyone had the foreknowledge or the care to learn about, forecasted his emotions as plainly as the ones he could sense from others. And, while he may not technically be a mind reader, he was able to sense their intentions rather accurately.

His father, though, had a reason for enrolling him in public school. He was trying to teach Noctis that not all people in the world were ill intentioned by exposing him to humanity as a whole. It was just, going from a maximum of three people in a room, to over twenty was almost impossible for him to digest. Especially considering how different people had different emotional wavelengths, each processed differently.

For instance, the girl with the long red hair on the other side of the classroom? She had the hots for the guy seated in the middle row at the back, and her perfume always smelled sweetest when he was talking to her, but lingered putrid in the air with bitterness and jealousy when he spoke to the girl with short black hair. And the boy's emotions seemed to hold a more physical tone to them, making Noctis shiver when he was displeased, or heat spread uncomfortably through his bones when he was overly pleased.

It was something that gave Noctis a headache. With as many people as there were in the classroom, he was assaulted by all his senses many times over, to the point that he wasn't sure what his body was actually sensing.

It was for that reason (along with their idiocy) that he generally avoided his classmates and secluded himself in the back.

Of course that wasn’t always possible

"Okay, everyone! I am going to let you all pick your partner for this next project, so hurry, find someone to team up with and sit together."

Noctis also hated group projects. Mostly because he hated his petty classmates, and the obnoxious teachers that were trying to get him to participate, but also, because of the emotions whirling around in the classroom as jittery, hormone driven morons raced back and fourth, occasionally fighting over someone so not worth fighting for, if the emotions he was picking up from them were correct.

Not to mention, if the hint of bitterness and frustration he was feeling role off of the falsely grinning teacher was anything to go by, he was only having them team up so he would have half the amount of papers to grade. He couldn't exactly fault the man for that, but still. Lazy.

Noctis shot a glare at a slender girl in pink ribbons when she approached him, making his red gem pulse an even more angry red in warning that, unbeknownst to him, reflected in his dark eyes, making him look almost demonic for a split second.

She paled and scurried away. Noctis grinned slightly, his tail twisting itself around the leg of his chair to try to help prevent it from lashing around wildly in disgust. He could feel how superficial she was. He could feel her material want and hunger for more like an emptiness in the pit of his own stomach. Even if he weren't empathic he would have been able to sense that much by looking into her beady little eyes.

After a few minutes, the class settled down, students either content or covetous of their neighbors team.

"Okay, are we all ready? Anyone who still needs a partner, raise your hand."

Noctis didn't raise his hand. He would do a much better job working alone than being distracted by one of them.

But, of course, someone had to ruin his hopes by raising their hand. "Mr. Langdon, sir, I don't have a partner," a cheerful voice called out, way too excited for being the last one picked, waving his hand back and fourth ecstatically like he won the lottery.

The teacher frowned, doing a quick headcount of his students, which he had been sure was an even number when he called attendance. That same old dissatisfaction and irritation rolled off of the man in waves when his eyes landed on the prince.

Noctis narrowed his eyes, daring the man to team him up with someone.

"Prompto, there is a seat in the back next to Noctis." The teacher made a quick scratch on his paper, the unpleasant dry noise of a felt tipped marker sounding louder than normal, reflecting the man's displeasure on a level that had Noctis internally recoiling at the intense wave of emotions amplified by such a simple, already cringe worthy sound.

The only thing that outwardly displayed his discomfort was the way the red of his gem lightened into a sickly pink and his tail tightened around the chair. "Since you two have such a hard time making friends, maybe you two will actually find something in common besides this assignment, hmmm?"

He was just salty that Noctis had nearly blinded him once before when he was held back after class to discuss one of his father’s legislations.

The snickers of laughter were probably quiet, but the mean spirited emotions that followed with them made them seem sharper, louder, harsher, grating on his senses so painfully that he wanted to dig his nails into the side of his head and yank his hair out, shredding and ripping his own skin raw until the sounds that had already ended stopped echoing in his own mind.

Outwardly, he just lazily looked back at the teacher, projecting a look of cool defiance that he most certainly wouldn't have been able to literally project with his mind had he even wanted to. He was barely able to stop himself from casting the room into a whirlwind of anger, confusion and chaos, and he had plenty of time to try to sharpen his skills at it. Only the knowledge of what his father would say to him when he got home if he lost control of his powers had him pausing.

He could feel it all and he really didn’t want to. The teacher thought his life was hard because he had to come in and deal with all of his students on a basic academic level while balancing his marriage of three years with his lust for the gym teacher. An attraction that Noctis suspected may have gone past lust and into adultery some time in the past week or so.

Maybe if the stupid man wasn't so self involved, like everyone else in the room, he would notice that his wife knew or at least suspected his possible dalliances, and was passive aggressively punishing him for it if the state of his unpressed shirts and subpar lunches were anything to go by. Most people wouldn’t have noticed that, but Noctis did because of the benevolent aura that emanated from those objects.

People were all just so shallow and self centered. If they just took a moment to stop thinking about themselves, they might be able to notice the emotions of those around them almost as easily as Noctis did. It wasn't like they tried to hide it, despite how much he wished they would some times. They all had tells.

Like the way his classmates learned to avoid him and eye him wearily when he passed too near. How some of the more stupid ones still tried to talk to him on occasion, despite what they knew would happen.

He had to sort through everyone's verging emotions daily, including his teacher's petty problems. And all of their emotions were so obvious it was laughable that no one else saw it. If people just learned how and where to look, they wouldn't be so confused all of the time, and they didn't even need his powers to see how unhappy everyone was.

Much to Noctis's irritation, the peppy sounding blond at the front of the class just nodded enthusiastically before practically skipping down the isle to where he sat, blinking wearily at his new 'partner,' eyes shooting curiously up to his forehead, then his ears. Noctis eyed the other’s lack there of with disinterest.

After a moment, Noctis was sure the boy would turn back to the teacher and beg for a new partner. Much to his surprise and irritation, though, the boy's grin widened and his hand shot out for a polite handshake.

Great, Noctis thought to himself. Another person who wanted nothing more than to gain favor with the prince. Just what he needed.

Still, strangely enough, Noctis felt nothing coming from the boy, though perhaps he was just overpowered by the rest of the room to really pick up what his new partner was feeling.

He pretended he didn't even notice the hand, turning away to face the front of the classroom where the teacher was talking.

Noctis had to give him credit, the human boy did not falter, and his hand didn’t drop. "Hi! I'm Prompto. I hope we can become friends." His voice was frustratingly happy.

Noctis reevaluated the boy's words in his head, almost a parrot of what the teacher said. Still, he couldn’t detect the true meaning behind them. Was he mocking the teacher? Was he mocking him? The teacher went back to explaining the project to the class long ago, ignoring their interaction for the time being, so that obviously wasn't it.

He looked back at the boy's face, focusing harder when he still drew a strange and unusual blank. Was the kid brainwashed? Was he a sociopath? He wasn't really picking up strong emotions, though the rest of his classmates’ cruel laughter still reverberated around the room to the point that it was still hard to single anything out. He did have a strangely grey, blurry aura around him that seemed almost sickly, but it had to be incorrect. He acted like an overly happy, airheaded zombie. Perfectly fitting considering his blonde hair. No one was that happy with life. No one smart, anyway. Noctis was sure of that.

After a moment, when Noctis realized the boy wasn't going to sit down until he shook his hand, he sighed.

He hated touching people. It usually came with the unfortunate side effect of amplifying their emotions slightly. Also, physical touch activated his gem’s defenses, so if the other was a leach, he was about to get what he deserved. Nobody was worthy of his attentions, anyway. That much he could tell without touching.

Still, Noctis was reeling from the way the class was jeering at him from inside their own minds, their emotions echoing around the room as well as the frustration ebb and flow from the teacher's direction when he finally noticed Prompto still standing.

More interested in getting his stupid partner to sit down and stop drawing attention to them than anything else, he reached out to take his hand. There was less than a minute left in class, and he didn’t need a detention this close to the end of the day.

His fingers clasped tightly over his new partner’s, unknowingly sealing his fate.

He didn't know what he expected to feel when his skin made contact with the radiantly smiling buffoon. Probably another person interested in feeding off of wealth and power. Probably another person looking to hurt him. He could tell easily enough that his smile was fake. Knew it was fake, but he just didn't know how fake it was.

The moment his fingers brushed over the irritatingly smiling boy's Palm, his world narrowed.

That didn’t normally happen.

Actually that never happened, and the shock of it prevented Noctis from pulling away.

All of the laughter instantly faded until it was nothing more a faint echo from inside a bubble of time, and the rooms bright auras were blown out like candles, one by one, extinguishing until nothing was left but himself and Prompto in a stormy grey abyss.

Noctis’s breath caught in the real world and his eyes widened as his senses narrowed and his tail went limp behind him, but that was all anyone else would have been able to see to tell the normally stoic prince was in distress.

For Noctis, everything else was drowned out over the overwhelming sound of waves crashing into a beach, and the colors in the room faded like a storm cloud rolled over head. The sound was distorted the longer he held on, hollow and distant, now more like he was holding a shell up to his ear, the sounds it emitted hollow and fake next to the real ocean around him. He felt like he was drowning in despair and loneliness, despite the fact he was actually in a classroom filled with people. Breathing came heavy, and Noctis wanted to pull his hand away, but he just couldn't.

'What's the point,' he thought. Or maybe it was Prompto's thought? It seemed to echo before tapering off again, leaving him missing the depressing thought's absence when overwhelmed with being stuck in the vacuum of emptiness and unworthiness.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he was being affected by his classmate and that this wasn’t real. He wasn’t in any actual danger, despite the fact emotions that had no place belonging to someone his own age, especially someone who could smile so deceptively bright, existed.

It was wrong on so many levels. Especially considering how, off, far away in the distance, he could make out a glimmer of emotion that was trying to break through the misty fog of self hatred, depression, and anxiety. A small, ever present beacon of hope that had the potential of being as bright as the sun if nurtured.

Prompto pulled his hand away before he could investigate.

Like a rubber band snapping painfully into place, the world expanded, growing person by person and color by color in less than a second when the bell rang, and Prompto tugged his hand out of Noctis's dazed grasp with a hesitant smile, carrying on like he didn't just shatter Noctis's world, or cast him out into a deep, dark ocean of despair without a lifeboat. His body was suddenly heavy, like he had been floating in a zero gravity abyss before being slammed back into his mind.

His head throbbed painfully as he was forced to adjust to the emotions of the entire room and beyond. The theacher was still fuming, and his classmates had found something else to laugh about. Probably their plans for the weekend.

Noctis shook his head, trying to fix the sudden bout of vertigo that had caused.

That had never happened before. No matter who it was, a single person's emotions, even with skin to skin contact, was never fully able to block out the entire room before, especially when there were this many people in it.

The prince scrambled to pick up the pieces of his mental barriers before his emotions, and by extension Prompto's, could rip across the room like a hurricane. Those kinds of emotions could kill people if he accidentally let his mind amplify it and broadcast it like a loud speaker. It would be chaos.

Prompto obliviously retreated to his desk, retrieving his bag and books before dashing quickly back to the prince, like he was afraid Noctis would leave him behind. Noctis had no such intention, despite how he suspected it might have been healthier for him if he had.

“Well, I guess we should meet somewhere to do our project." Prompto suggested, his smile never once dimming despite the fact Noctis now knew how false it truly was. He couldn’t figure it out, couldn’t find the chinks in the armor, the tells that everyone else exhibited. "I would suggest my house, but my parents aren't there–”

Maybe they died recently and that was the cause of his anguish?

“–and I doubt your parents or my own would be really happy if we did that–”

Of course, it couldn’t be that simple.

“–and I doubt I would be permitted to yours, considering. There is always the library?" He looked up at the prince hopefully, pausing finally in his rambling to hear Noctis’s input.

A strong wave of unworthiness crashed against his straining barriers at that comment. If he had been standing, it probably would have knocked him off of his feet.

Noctis's eyes narrowed. He needed to get to the bottom of this, and he wouldn't be able to do that in a crowded area with other emotions to block the connection, and especially not under the watchful eyes of the castle.

"We will do it at your house," Noctis said in a way that brooked no arguments.

Prompto, obviously, had not been expecting that, his smile turning nervous and his eyebrow twitching in a way that suggested he was unhappy. It was the first time for Noctis that the other seemed to even hint at anything more than exuberant excitement in his repertoire of practiced emotions. "I just said we probably shouldn't do that." He scratched the back of his head awkwardly.

Noctis narrowed his eyes, projecting his will onto the blond.

It was more of a gentle nudge in the right direction, just a hint of excitement tagged onto the uncertainty of being alone with him. He didn't expect it to take as well as it did. In fact, he was sure his mental nudge would be so weak that it wouldn't even be noticeable.

To his surprise, the boy's smile replastered itself onto his face like it never left, and the discomfort and slight irritation melted into a need to please that warmed his skin like a ray of sun on a bright Summer's day. "But, on second thought, it has kinda been lonely around the house lately, and what the old man doesn't know won't hurt him, right? Heck, we could turn it into a slumber party!" Prompto cheered while he pumped his fists.

Noctis couldn't help but blush a little at that childish declaration. Maybe he overdid it a little. But, he hadn't felt like he projected that hard. Most nudges didn't even move the subconscious until days later, and that was after a while of sleeping on it. Only his father was skilled enough to influence someone more powerfully, and he was wise enough not to use such a decision lightly.

Maybe Prompto's depression made him more susceptible to mental attacks, and less willing to resist?

He would have to test it later when they were alone.

Prompto began babbling about the project they were going to do, slinging his arm around the Prince’s shoulder casually, like he had done it a million times before. It was something Noctis never thought would be done by anyone but Gladio.

But Prompto wasn’t staff. Prompto wasn’t being payed to do anything with him. It was… refreshing despite the fact the touch cast him into the shrouded world of unseen pain and suffering and loneliness.

Now that Noctis knew it was there, though, he had been able to prepare himself for it. Strangely enough, he found that navigating through the halls with Prompto casually touching him made the surrounding pollution of emotions… unusually bearable.

After school on most other days Noctis hid away till less people were about before he went to retrieve things from his locker, mostly out of fear that he might pass out like the king in the story.

The strange blond’s emotions seemed to block out everything else, wrapping him in an impenetrable bubble that no one else could break through. No one else was able to break through it, and perhaps that was why Prompto felt so alone?

Naw. That sounded dumb.

Though, it was no wonder the other felt so lonely if this was how he saw everything: Isolated from the world.

After a moment, Noctis wondered morbidly if he was Prompto’s last hope. Would the boy kill himself if left too much longer on his own? Noctis had never met someone like that before, but he knew it was possible.

A few years back, one of the older kids at the school had committed suicide. It was all over the news and all of the kids knew about it, despite how adults tried to change the channel when it was broadcast, like they were shielding whatever innocence a high schooler actually had left.

The other children had liked to tell stories about how the upperclassmen still haunted the halls, but Noctis doubted that. If anyone was actually able detect a benevolent spirit he was sure he would be at the top of that list.

According to classmates, no one saw it coming. He was fine, laughing happily with friends one day, then hanging from the light fixtures in the locker room the next.

Noctis turned his head, looking directly at the enthusiastic blond hanging off his shoulder and chattering his ear off. Anyone else wouldn’t have been able to sense this level of pain. The way the other clung to him would have looked normal and even playfully endearing to most, but Noctis knew what Prompto was really reaching for. Could feel it, like a feeble kitten’s claw clinging blindly to the hand that plucked it from its mother’s warmth, hoping for someplace safe to rest.

Noctis was his life raft. His last hope out of the painful life he was living. Noctis was his reason to keep going. For the moment. Until Noctis decided he didn’t want him around anymore. Like they always did.

Noctis smacked his head when that disturbing thought curled it’s way into his head, most likely a thought that was not even his own. Still, even though he knew it was most likely an influence, it made him sick with himself for even letting it take root.

“You okay?”

He didn’t even realize how strange the action must have looked till he caught Prompto looking at him like he thought he might be crazy. Not like it mattered what he thought. The guy would still probably worship the ground Noctis walked on so long as he kept giving him the time of day.

Noctis winced and ground the heel of his hand into his eye, fingers subtly digging at the outer edges of his jewel. “I’m fine, just a bit of a headache.”

Prompto looked like he had been struck and started to pull away. Instantly Noctis knew the other perceived his words to mean he thought Prompto was a headache. Like he wanted Prompto to shut up.

“I woke up with one.” Noctis quickly amended, tail instinctually moving back to brush against his companion’s tail in apology before swiping through thin air. It was so surprising, like when his foot sought purchase on a step that wasn’t really there.

That gave Noctis a whole new list of things to rack his mind over. Why would he seek to comfort someone he didn’t even know very well over how they mistakenly interpreted his words? Why had he lied over something as trivial as a headache? He didn’t usually worry this much over offending others.

On top of that, why the tail? Was it simply because he was just so use to Zóan company that his animal mistakenly sought to comfort the other in such an abnormal way for a blessless? He didn’t really interact with too many blessless at the castle. Maybe that was another reason?

It was confusing. Everything was becoming more and more confusing the longer he dwelled on it.

Despite how much Noctis wanted to shrug the arm off (mostly because he hated being touched), he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He couldn’t live without the mystery of Prompto being solved. Also, he realized uncomfortably, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if the other showed up dead the next day.

Well… not like he could actually show up dead….

Noctis picked at his gem again, forgoing the head-slap as to avoid another curious glance from his companion.

Prompto obliviously left his side when they arrived at his locker, unknowing of the effect it would have on the other.

Noctis’s tail lashed out, desperately seeking any level of contact it could achieve with the other, but Prompto stepped out of range.

And then there was chaos.

The moment that contact was gone Noctis physically staggered under the weight of the crowded hall. It was more painful than he remembered from the few times he ventured out before at the end of the day rush had left the halls.

He felt more helpless than Prompto had, but instead of feeling the weightlessness of no connections at all, he was under the barrage of way too many. He couldn’t breath because of the unusual mix of emotions clogging his nose, and the colors and auras nearly blinded him the moment the arm slipped off his shoulder.

It should have never happened. He would have never let himself get dragged this far into a crowd any other day, but with his classmate there it had been far too easy to forget the dangers.

His ears folded painfully down against his head, and his tail flicked dangerously. He felt his control slipping. The emotions he tried to keep dammed up pulsing under his skin in time with his gem, brighter, louder, brighter, louder, never stopping till it crescendoed to its denouement and–

“Woh, buddy, you alright?”

It was strange to realize that the embrace of loneliness was actually preferable to the alternative. Of course, that thought just made Noctis realize that the depression and hopelessness Prompto must have felt day after day probably wasn’t too different from how Noctis felt sometimes, when he purposely pushed others away, watching how everyone else interacted so seamlessly without trying, wishing for more. Lonely.

Unlike Prompto, though, his exile was self-imposed and bitter. Just like the king in the story, he had begun to hate because of what he couldn’t have, not even willing to give others a chance to prove him wrong.

Prompto, on the other hand, still seemed to seek out and nurture kindness in others, despite whatever had happened in his life to make him so disconnected. In spite of his own unhappiness, he lived to make others happy rather than despise them for finding happiness on their own. What Noctis looked upon with contempt, he looked upon with longing and hope.

“Do you get headaches this bad often?” Prompto fretted over the prince, taking his hand and leading him off down the hall. Noctis followed blindly, still reeling from the constant pressure change Prompto’s touch caused, reaching out to grasp the other’s arm when it seemed like he was going to let go.

“You would be surprised how often,” Noctis gritted through the pain, clenching the other’s hand so hard it probably hurt, especially considering he had superior strength to the non-Zóa. Still, the other didn’t try to pull away.

“I think I have some pills for migraines at home. Do you think that’s what it is? My mom gets…”

Once again, Noctis began nodding to the words, blocking out the never ending drivel as he pondered things more important to himself.

Maybe his power wasn’t as bad as he thought it was. If he hadn’t had his powers, he surely wouldn’t have noticed Prompto. He wouldn’t have the chance to try to save him.

Wait, did he just think that? He blushed and shook himself out of his thoughts. ‘Cause that sounded stupid amounts of gay.

“Do you,” Prompto flapped the hand that wasn’t in the Prince’s death grip like he was flailing for the words he wanted to say. It was all very socially awkward, something that actually complimented the inner workings of his emotions instead of causing more questions, for once. “You know? Need to stop by your locker, or make a call or anything before we head out?” Also, it was strangely endearing.

“No,” he grabbed Prompto’s hand and took lead, dragging the other out of the school. Ignis was more than likely waiting to ambush him by his locker, and he would be damned if he let Prompto slip from his grasp before figuring anything out about the anomaly.

He would text Ignis later, if the other didn’t call first. After all, it was usually better to ask forgiveness. That was the best policy for handling his handler, anyway.

They headed down gradually declining roads to reach Prompto’s house, a small run down apartment building. The blond talked enough for the two of them the entire way.

Noctis frowned when the blond left his side to unlock the front door, more questions sprouting quickly from the time it took to get there, and especially after reviewing and comparing their living conditions.

Why didn’t Prompto want him for his money or status? Also, despite the fact there were very few people on the streets, why did it upset him that Prompto stopped touching him? The nearly vacant street was just about as close to quiet to his mind as he could get away from the castle.

Noctis frowned, deciding it wasn’t the healthiest reaction, but he couldn’t help himself. He couldn’t even stop himself from sitting close enough on the couch that his leg brushed Prompto’s shortly after he was welcomed into the cluttered living room and onto the well worn couch.

It must have been unhealthy, the way Noctis craved the other’s touch so quickly, especially considering what that touch brought with it: Nothing but loneliness.

Then again, it wasn’t like he couldn’t sympathize. Noctis didn’t like being lonely, but maybe with Prompto… he didn’t have to be lonely alone anymore.

Oh, Shiva! That was even gayer than the last thought!

Thankfully, he was distracted from this realization by Prompto’s declaration of, “Let’s get started!”

Prompto was positively beaming at him, and for a moment that little ray of hope seemed to be a little brighter. He felt the corner of his lips twitch up when witnessing the other’s enthusiasm. “If we start right away, we could probably finish it in a couple of hours.” Then, that ray dimmed, but the smile plastered on the outside, unsettlingly, did not. “Then this will be over, and I’ll be out of your hair till we have to present our projects to the class.”

Noctis’s previously quirked lip did a nosedive. He didn’t like how that sounded at all.

He tried to convince himself that this wasn’t his problem. That he wasn’t the one who caused this. Someone else was to blame, or maybe Prompto was just born broken. It wouldn’t be his fault if he just walked away right then and there.

But then, he realized selfishly, he wouldn’t be able to walk down the hall with his own personal white noise machine. He would never know why. Would never find some way to use his gift for good rather than use it to find reasons to hate the world like he usually did.

To save just one person might be all it took for him, even if they seemed to be as much of a social pariah as he himself was. Maybe he could justify the good of his blessings and convince himself it wasn’t a curse like it seemed most days  

They started working.

Half an hour in, Noctis got bored and noticed an old game system in the corner of the room. Prompto was hesitant at first, but after a quick emotional projection, just to see if the other really was as susceptible to mental suggestions as it had seemed in the school, Prompto enthusiastically turned on the gaming system and tossed him a controller, confusingly still in its original packaging.

“I don’t really know why my parents got me two controls. They are way too busy to sit down and play it themselves.”

Either Prompto was being abnormally obtuse (though, for Prompto he could have probably left off the ‘abnormally’ part), or he didn’t want to admit out loud that, up till then, it felt like his parents had wasted precious money on the hope their son might have someone to play it with.

Noctis distracted himself from those thoughts, lowering himself onto the floor to dig through a small but tasteful collection of games.

Prompto grinned pridefully as he carded through the discs with the prince. “As you can tell, I have a tendency to gravitate toward first person shooters, but we can play whatever you want. You are the guest, after all.” He stood up, and Noctis would have been very upset at the sudden vacancy next to him had Prompto followed it up with, “I’ll get some popcorn. And I don’t have much food in the pantry, but how do you feel about ramen?”

Noctis ended up staying later than he had expected.

Of corse, later, turned into midnight, and a frantic phone call from his panicked advisor turned it into a sleepover.

(“I totally told you I was going to spend the night at one of my classmate’s houses to finish a project for school, Ignis! What do you want from me? I even saw you write it down in that dumb book you carry everywhere. Don’t blame me when you can’t find your own reminder to yourself in in that thing, or when you have trouble reading your own shorthand. Maybe you should spend the weekend reorganizing your office and stop trying to pin the blame on me for a change!”)

While Prompto was visibly torn over the (obviously false accusations and) poor treatment of his advisor, he seemed happy to have a reason to dig through the linen closet and set up a place in front of the tv so that they could play games till they fell asleep.

Their school paper remained forgotten on the table for some time.

The sleepover turned into a weekend. The first group project got a passing grade, much to their surprise, and so did their second and third. The fourth wasn’t something they liked to talk about, though.

Time passed, and soon enough there were very few places Noctis would go without the deceptively cheery blessless, always within arms reach.

Of course, that didn’t stop the occasional discouraging comment from his unlikely new friend.

“You know, if you wanna stop hanging out with me, I would understand. I mean, why would you want to hang out with a blessless anyway?”

“My mother was a blessless,” Noctis shot back with as much venom dripping from his tone as possible. Some of it was for the mention of his late mother that he had only heard about in stories, but mostly it was the demeaning way Prompto tried to get rid of him sometimes. Like Noctis was only doing this to humor him.

Prompto flinched, and drew in on himself, unconsciously pulling away from the prince as well. “Oh. I didn’t know that.”

Noctis rolled his eyes. Prompto didn’t know a lot of things, it wasn’t a surprise. “It’s a sore subject,” one Noctis didn’t expect Prompto to know much about seeing as how he didn’t take Modern Zóan history. According to Prompto, his parents pulled him out of the class when he began failing it and they learned it was an elective. “You know, sometimes I wonder… if she had been born blessed maybe she would have been strong enough to live, or if my dad fell in love with a Zóa like he was supposed to, maybe she wouldn’t have become a target in the first place.”

He had never spoken so much on the subject before. He rarely said that much to Prompto in general, but occasionally in the past week or so he had noticed himself carrying a two sided conversation with the other, rather than letting the other carry on by himself like he often did. Prompto seemed to enjoy it more when Noctis reciprocated to a conversation topic than when he floundered around by himself, in search of enough words to murder any moments of silence with his never ending, inane babble. Sometimes Noctis wondered if Prompto had carried whole conversations with himself in the same way when he was alone, before Noctis was there, just to fill that void of silence and loneliness and in an attempt to keep dark thoughts at bay.

The thought of Prompto talking to thin air while making ramen in his empty apartment was enough to make him simultaneously amused, and sorry. His tail once again apologetically reached out for something that wasn’t there, setting lightly enough around the other’s waist when it once again didn’t touch anything Zóan that his friend didn’t seem to notice.

“Sorry for bringing it up.”

Noctis shrugged. “Not as big a deal as you would think. I never even knew her.”

“Oh.” Prompto frowned. “Well, then…if your mom, the queen, was… looked down on… for marrying your dad… they can’t be too happy with you befriending a human, can they?” Prompto fidgeted, unworthiness once again oozing out of every pore. “I don’t want to cause conflict.”

“You aren’t causing conflict,” Noctis once again snapped. The only thing he had learned in his time with Prompto was that, unfortunately enough, he couldn’t influence his classmates self image.

“It’s just…” Prompto set the game controller down, and cast a weary eye around the room. “I don’t think many of the people at the castle like me.”

“That’s nonsense! Is it ‘cause Gladio told you a Human on the Crown’s Guard was a ‘laughable concept?’ I’ll admit that was a little insensitive, but I bet he can’t play a first person shooter like you can, or take as awesome pictures.”

Prompto laughed awkwardly, still refusing to look away from his hands, the grey clouds around him even darker than ever before.

“He thinks you’re cool,” Noctis tried, though, because of Prompto and his white-noise-effect, actually, he didn’t really know for a fact. Wasn’t that just the kicker. “He told me a few days ago that he saw some real potential in you!” But he never admitted to what that potential was for. “Sure, he can be a little abrasive and rough at times, but that comes with the territory of… the Amicitia line.”

Prompto finally looked at him and he knew he screwed up somehow. Badly.

Prompto’s face was burning so red his freckles stood out darker than normal, and his blue eyes looked (surprisingly) furious, embarrassed, and a little watery. “You know, I wasn’t really referring to Gladio, but thanks for reminding me of that,” Prompto grimaced.

It was the first time Noctis could ever recall Prompto showing any really strong, genuine emotions. Real emotions were what he had been aiming to see ever since he first met him… but now that he was staring it in the face, he decided he didn’t want to see the blond doing anything but smiling.

And someone (beyond himself) had caused that pain to come top side for a change.

Noctis couldn’t control the way his ears twitched, or how his hair rose in displeasure at that statement. Noctis’s anger went from a heated passion, to an icy rage. Rarely ever did he guess something incorrectly. His tail flicked dangerously against Prompto’s hip. “Then who?” Prompto was the Prince’s guest. Anyone who didn’t treat him with respect would answer to the Prince directly.

If possible, Prompto’s face got even redder, but the anger had faded, leaving only a disheartened and embarrassed frown on his face.

“Ignis,” Prompto hesitantly stated in a pained way, like he didn’t think he really had the right to accuse another of anything considering how worthless he thought he was in comparison.

Noctis’s eyes widened in surprise. Of all the people, Ignis was his least likely suspect. For obvious reasons.

“He always acts weird around me,” Prompto explained, once again fidgeting with his fingers instead of looking at how Noctis was taking the news. He probably thought Noctis would suddenly see what he thought Ignis saw and laugh at him. “And I swear, I think he tried to smother me to death with his wings a few days ago.”

Noctis snorted. Of course. “Don’t take that personally. Ignis hates just about anything that isn’t normal routine. I’ll talk to him. Tell him to lighten up.”

Prompto finally looked up and gave him this watery smile that melted Noctis’s heart. “Thanks, man. I don’t know why you go through half the trouble you do for me.”

“You’re worth the trouble.” Noctis realized just how gay that sounded the moment it left his mouth.

The blond laughed heartily at that, but Noctis suspected that it was because the other seriously thought he had told a joke. Despite months of friendship, the other still had an unhealthily low opinion of himself.

“For all you know, I could be using you to get to your good video game stash.” He unpaused the game.

Noctis laughed again, something he didn’t do to often but found he really enjoyed it when he was sharing it with a friend. “Dude, don’t you know anything about Carbuncles?”

There was a moment of dead silence where nothing was heard but the tapping of buttons. The longer the moment drew on, the more Noctis wondered if Prompto actually did know anything about him.

Prompto finally frowned in confusion. “Is that what you are?” Then he smirked cheekily before executing a combo move and killing Noctis’s character instantly. “I thought you were a cat or something.”

Noctis felt his brow twitch. Just how ignorant was Prompto to Zóan… everything? “Carbuncles are cats.” Noctis slumped in defeat, letting his controller fall from his lap when Prompto hooted in excitement, setting up another match instantly.

“Oh? You learn a new thing every day, I guess.” He clicked start for the next round, and Noctis was pretty sure everything was going in one ear and out the other. “Is that why you and your dad have a rock on your forehead and none of the other cat Zóa people do? Is that a Carbuncle thing?” he asked flippantly, once again reverting to carrying on useless conversations just to avoid silence, especially in the wake of their all too serious talk beforehand.

“Yeah, Prompto.” Sometimes Noctis forgot how completely airheaded his friend was. It was usually endearing. “Most Zóa use more than just one word to explain what they are.”

“Sounds confusing. I’m glad I don’t have to remember much more than my name and address. Anything more, and I thing my brain would, like, explode.”

Noctis almost went and admitted right then and there that he was an empath. Then, the realization that would inadvertently be admitting to a depressed teen that he not only knew all his smiles were false, but that he only hung out with him because he was afraid of what would happen if he didn’t kinda stayed his tongue for some reason. Go figure.

It wasn’t like Prompto couldn’t pick up a book on different types of Zóa and figure it out anyway. It was kinda his own fault he didn’t, really, and in the whole scheme of things it seemed like a relatively harmless white lie.

Still, Prompto seemed placated by the fact the prince was willing to talk to him, and approach his advisor for him later. Something Noctis never actually had to do, because a week later Prompto thanked him profusely and showed off a beautiful bracelet the advisor had gifted him with out of the blue.

Noctis guessed Ignis had realized how harsh he was being to the human without his intervention and offered something as a olive branch, but Noctis couldn’t be sure. He also wasn’t going to admit to the fact he actually had nothing to do with it when it earned him the warmest, happiest hug he ever remembered feeling from his depressed friend. He was paying less and less attention to the intentions of people around him the longer he spent with his classmate. And the longer he spent with his classmate, the brighter that ray of hope became, fighting the fog of sorrow back bit by bit, but never completely. He was sure it was just a matter of time before he did, though.

It almost came as a shock the first time he fell asleep on Prompto. It was in the middle of a movie, but they had already watched three before that in an attempt to stay up all night.

Prompto had dozed off long before he had.

At some point they had declared war on each other via popcorn, which lead to a pillow fight that resulted in Noctis throwing both pillows across the room and laying down on top of the hysterically giggling blessless, who protested for less than a minute before becoming distracted by an explosion in the movie. Then he dozed off before Noctis had a chance to disentangle himself. Which was good, because Noctis was way too comfortable and warm to consider doing that.

It wasn’t an uncommon thing to do, anyway. Cats liked to sleep at all times of the day and night. Most Feline Zóa did so, too. They fell asleep on just about anything or anyone, but it was usually a way for their inner animal to mark ownership over something, or dominance over another. ‘Cause being willing to let someone else sleep on you for an extended period of time without complaint meant you cared enough about that someone to put their needs first, or some weird crap like that. It was weird, and Noctis didn’t really care about all that Zóa stuff, despite his advisor trying to force feed it to him every turn.

For Noctis, though, falling asleep on Prompto was just a way for him to drown out the outside world that seemed to seep through the walls of his chamber rooms.

That was what he convinced himself, anyway. Having someone his own age to play games with and watch tv with was just an added bonus.

Occasionally, when he knew Prompto had fallen asleep first, he let out the purr that he had been holding back and his tail curled around one of the other’s limbs while trying to smother himself with as much contact as he could to ensure his own sleep would not be touched by anything but the soothing sounds of the ocean.

If Prompto ever woke first during the many times they eventually began falling into such a routine, he never seemed upset about it. He just called him a sleepy head and hit or tickled him till Noctis rolled over enough that his guest could get up and pee.

Maybe this was how the old king in the story felt when he met his wife, he thought to himself sleepily one night, using Prompto’s rising and falling chest as a pillow, completely sprawled on top of the other in his living room while the ending credits of a movie rolled. It was very different feeling from what he remembered his father telling him about, and as the months went on, that fog of loneliness and pain never completely went away, but that ray of hope was always there, shining brighter.

Maybe this wasn’t the most conventional way to find it, whatever it was he was looking for, or the same exact thing the king from his bedtime stories found, but maybe he found what he needed all the same. He was determined not to let anyone or thing take this confusingly not happy ball of sunshine away from him.

Not like it was taken from the king in the story. He would hold on tightly and never let go!

It stayed like that for a little while longer before Noctis realized that he might not have as much control over the situation as he thought he did.

Of all the threats he was prepared to fight to keep his mysteriously average human friend by his side, he never would have imagined it would be his guard, and someone he had once thought of as a friend, Gladiolus.

Maybe he should have payed more attention to the whole story back when he was younger, but it seemed so unreal back then. Just a tale told to a sleepy child. A fantasy.

It wasn’t till he was faced with a bloody mess of his friend lying limply on the training mat in front of him that he remembered the other half of the story again.

“Don’t worry. I’m gonna get Ignis! He’ll know what to do,” he muttered to the unconscious form of his friend and the Glaive next to him trying to stem the flow of blood.

His lips pressed desperately against the unresponsive flesh of Prompto’s forehead, ignoring the fact Nyx was party to the whole display.

In that moment, he realized that his attachment to Prompto was a whole lot deeper than just friendship. Maybe he had known it for a very long time but just let the white noise of Prompto’s mind block out even his own emotions. Maybe it was why he kept subconsciously linking Prompto and himself to the blessless woman and king in the story.

Maybe there was more to his need to always be near Prompto than his want to block out others. Maybe there was more to why he was obsessed with the idea that Prompto would smile at him for real one day. That he would somehow be enough to bring him out of the gloom to realize the world wasn’t too terrible, despite the fact Noctis had not long ago thought it was himself.

When had he stopped thinking the world was horrible? Why was he so sure he would go back to thinking that way if he lost Prompto?

All this time, it had been his plan to save Prompto, but he never stopped to consider that Prompto had saved him.

He forced himself to get up and focus himself. He would be no help to Prompto if he couldn’t calm down and compartmentalize. Without Prompto he had a hard time calming himself down enough that he didn’t project his fear all over the castle.

He ran to get Ignis as fast as he could, feeling the blood of the human on his fingertips when his hand slipped over the doorknobs of his advisor’s room.

He forgot how strange and chaotic the world felt without the calming presence of Prompto’s touch. He couldn’t lose it. Not so soon.

Not like his father.

And yes, Noctis knew exactly how gay everything he just thought sounded, thank you very much. 

He also realized that he might have to come to terms with the fact he was also, very probably, just as gay.

———————————————————

Regis knew his son was dozing off, though the small boy was stubbornly fighting his fluttering lashes from falling shut. It was so normal. So precious. He suddenly realized why he couldn’t let himself spend so much time with his only child. Because if he did, he might never go back to being a king.

He continued the story, hoping his voice would help the obstinate boy fall asleep for the night. “Almost everyone in the kingdom was ecstatic to learn of the predicted birth of a new prince. The king however, was worried. What if he was too distant. What if he wasn't a good father? He had a kingdom to rule, and a wife he worshiped, where was there room in his life for a child. Not only that, but his marriage with a common, unblessed woman displeased the courts. How would people feel if his child were born a human?” He couldn’t imagine thinking any different of his dear son, even if he were blessless. He never thought any different of his mother. “Would they blame his wife, despite the fact the gift was only given to those the gods favored? Would his son be looked down upon simply because his wife had no noble blood? Where would his child's place in the world be? Little did he know his advisor was looking to fix this situation."

"Good. The king needs help." The small carbuncle blinked rapidly, curling to the side and tugging his father’s hand into a snuggle.

"Not the help he was offering. Convinced that the new queen was corrupting the king, and perhaps angered that she refused his advances many years prior, or perhaps just because he disliked the joy she brought the once icy king, he put a poison into the queen's cup one night."

The young prince squeezed his eyes shut for the first time. "I don't like this story anymore!"

"Would you like to go to sleep, or would you like to finish the story."

"I don't want to sleep."

"That's what I thought. Well, the queen was stubborn, the poison was more so. She lived long enough to birth a beautiful baby boy, though he was very small. Meanwhile, the king came home from a long day, excited to see how she was doing. Only his bed was empty. When he found the doctors, they told the bad news to the king, softening the blow by telling him they were able to save his son.

“The king was at a loss, convinced that no one would ever be able to make him happy again. In his anguish, he cast those around him into a sorrow that there would never be words for. He considered sacrificing his gem for a wish to the gods just to be with her again, even considering killing himself to be with her."

"What happened?"

"The king was brought his son, and the moment he felt that sweet little nudge at his mind, the innocent want for warmth and food, so needy and uncorrupt and vulnerable, he fell in love. A love very different from the one he held for his wife, but love none the less. And when he came closer, he saw the ears so much like his own, and the bright gem imbedded in his small head, and his heart throbbed for the young child that didn't know what curse the gods granted him. And he decided to spoil that little child, and show him how bright the world could be just like how his wife showed him not too long before. And when his son smiled, he realized that the true blessing the gods granted him wasn't in his ears, or gem, or even his tail. It was in the love of his wife, and the beautiful baby boy he was gifted with. And do you know what that king named his son?"

"What?"

"The king named his son Noctis."

"Hey, that's my name!"

"That it is. And you make my world and gem a little brighter just by being alive."

"Wait a second! My gem flashes at almost everyone too! Will I get mean like you did?"

"I hope not, my son."

"Will I find someone like mommy?"

"One day. If you keep yourself open and don't hide yourself away like the king in the story did, I believe you will."

"What happened to the bad man?"

"He ran. He ran, and he never came back."

Chapter Text

Gladio stood despondently under the shower head, bloodshot eyes following dark water as it circled the floor drain, steadily becoming clearer the longer he stayed. 

If only his mind could clear itself as well. 

His left arm still twitched limply at his side from residual shock energy. Glaive Ulrik really let loose when he zapped Gladio into submission. He would have been bitter had that not more than likely saved the young human's life. 

Prompto. 

Innocent. 

Human. 

Prey.

Bleeding. 

Blood…

Mine!

No! 

No, that wasn’t who he was! Gladiolus wasn’t a blood thirsty animal! He was supposed to be a sheild! He was supposed to protect, never harm! That was the oath he swore to, and Amicitias didn’t break oaths lightly. 

He let out a strangled growl, punching the wall hard enough to shatter tiles. The footsteps pacing just outside the shower stall faltered momentarily as a new source of blood ran down the drain. Plaster splintered his knuckles, but he didn’t care. He deserved worse. 

Noctis deserved better from his shield. 

Prompto didn’t deserve any of this shit. 

He shook his head as memories fogged by his feral mindset became clearer. His heart pounding in his chest, in his ears… or maybe that had been the young blond’s heartbeat that he had honed in on? His blood rushing through veins… dripping from his teeth….

No amount of his charge's screaming would have been able to stop him in that state. He even remembered his body trying to throw the prince off of him at one point.  He remembered, horrifyingly enough, throwing the prince he swore to protect at a wall when he had jumped onto his back. He was lucky Noctis was a feline, because any other type of Zóa wouldn’t have been able to land on their feet at that velocity. 

He was unlucky that Prompto didn’t have that kind of resilience. He was human. He had been bleeding so bad… and he couldn’t stop himself!

 He tried to shake his head and rid himself of the memory. Without the Glaive’s intervention it would have been worse. He really hoped the poor little blond Noctis kept dragging around everywhere didn't get zapped as well when Nyx jumped in, but considering his teeth had been firmly latched into his victim’s neck at the time he sincerely doubted it. It had been obvious that Prompto suffered the pain of electrocution considering how he felt the smaller body flailing beneath his weight. The jerking limbs wouldn't have been strange or even noticeable had the boy actually been conscious at the time. 

Gladio reached up and grabbed both of his long, bull-like horns, wishing he could just rip them out of his skull. How was any of what just happened a blessing? He hated himself. He should have never agreed to Noctis's suggestion of training the kid. The only thing he could be trusted to do was pulverize any threat to his prince. When he tried to go beyond his duties, he only ended up destroying. 

He really was a monster. No wonder he was so aptly named one by his Zóa classification. 

He still had far too much pent up energy, adrenaline flooded his system despite the fact the fighting (if you could even call it that) had ended around a hour ago, or however long it took for the water in the communal shower rooms to go cold. His body was still thrumming for any kind of action, despite how his mind was very much against it. His bones were practically vibrating under his skin, muscles twitching with disuse. The sounds of Glaive Ulric pacing just outside the door only served to agitate him further.

"Shit…" he hissed, though he didn't know if there was a strong enough word for what he was feeling. The taste of blood still tinged his mouth, and he really wished he could truthfully admit to himself that he disliked the metallic tang. He caught himself subconsciously licking his lips and bit down on his own tongue hard enough to make himself bleed as punishment. 

The taste of his own blood deluded that of his victim’s, making him frown. Why wasn't his own blood as sweet? Why did he think Prompto’s blood sweet at all, come to think of it? He smelled… odd. Disgusting, even. And one would think that the questionable scent would be amplified when he went berserk, along with all of his other traits. 

Was he more of an animal than he thought? Did the taste of another’s blood excite him that much?

Beyond the flimsy stall walls he could just make out the sound of the locker room door slamming open with a resounding bang, then slow, measured footsteps approached. The sounds were louder than they should have been, possibly because his heightened senses still hadn't come down yet, or maybe because whoever it was didn’t want to surprise him. 

He wanted to snap at whoever approached, lash out like a predator did to prey, but he refused to lose control for a second time. 

He wasn’t a beast. He wouldn’t let himself become one. He needed to take some deep breaths. He needed to calm down. He could do this. He could do— 

"Gladiolus, you are going to have to come out of there eventually." He winced, pulling himself out of his thoughts at the sound of the firm, authoritative voice growling from beyond the flimsy stalls. "Glaive Ulrik, you are relieved. Go clean yourself up, I will handle this."

"Yes Marshal."

Gladio listened as the sound of much lighter and agile footsteps retreated from

their post, leaving the Zóa with the sure footed gate prowling outside his door. 

The Marshal's footsteps to be exact. 

He closed his eyes, drawing further into the spray of water to help hide the smell of his tears as he clenched his eyes tightly, balling his large clawed fingers into fists, puncturing his palms in a way he hadn't done since he was a reckless child still unused to the way his body was maturing into it's blessing. 

"Gladio, we need to talk. If you don't step out of the confines of that stall," the voice calmly and emotionlessly listed, "I will be forced to find your father and let him deal with you. And let me be clear, considering his relation to you and the court, I am a much more impartial third party than he is."

Gladio recoiled, but let his hand drift to the faucet and twist with the finality of a man signing his own death warrant. 

He probably was, come to think of it. 

His father was the highest ranking M class Zóa in their country, which was a major feat. M class or ‘Monster’ Zóa were rare, often blessed three or more non-human physical traits, as opposed to most Zóa only having only one or two (ears and a tail, or wings). While meaning they were typically much stronger and fiercer warriors, it also unfortunately made their many animal instincts much stronger than their human ones, occasionally overpowering their humanity all together. It made them the perfect killing machines, but almost impossible to be found in civilized company. Unlike most other Zóa, M class were registered, so the government could keep track of any if they went feral. A government program Gladio’s great grandfather started, and his father continued. Despite constricting legislation, Gladio’s father and King Regis tried to help promote M class citizens, showing how, despite the fact that they were born with a creature inheritance that made their instincts unstable and hard to predict, they could resist their nature to become valuable members of society. 

The fact that his father's own full grown son had lost composure and struck, not only a civilian, but a defenseless human would not only destroy his father on a personal level, but on a career based one as well. 

Along with promoting M class citizens and being a strong figurehead as a Monster Zóa himself, Clarus was also the man who was sent to take care of all unstable M class Zóa and bring them to justice should they ever lose themselves completely to the animals inside. If the court caught wind of this, his father would be sent to take care of him, too.  

No amount of relation would prevent his father from fulfilling his duties. 

He was dead and his own dad was going to kill him. 

It was only a matter of—

"Gladio, please quit sulking like a pup," the monotone voice called out again. "Step out and address the issue like an adult. I won't know what happened if you don't tell me, and if I don't know, I can't rightly defend you from your father's wrath."

Gladio didn't even bother drying off with his towel, instead coiling his thick, boa constrictor-like tail around his hips in a last second attempt at modesty before nudging the door open. 

Despite the fact Cor's words had sounded harsh, the man's eyes softened as he took Gladio's sorry state in. He knew he must look miserable, but at least his victim’s blood was finally gone. Visibly, at least. He could still smell the sickeningly sweet essence on his person, but he doubted Cor could. Feline traits tended to favor sound over smell for some reason. 

"I was told you went berserk without provocation. I know this isn't the best time to ask this question, " the Immortal clinically probed, "but do you feel in control of all your facilities?" 

Gladio couldn't help but noticed the way the lion Zóa's fingers drifted to the pommel of his blade when he didn't answer quickly enough.  

"Yes," Gladio croaked. "Though, you may not want to get too close. I'm still not sure what set me off."

Cor nodded understandingly, features giving nothing away. "Would you mind stepping out of the stall so we can discuss how we move forward?"

Gladio shook his head. "If it's all the same to you, I would like to stay put."

Cor's frown deepened as he was not use to someone disobeying him, even if he was asking and not ordering, but he nodded. "Then do you mind if I sit?" He gestured to the bench loftily, but made sure not to move until Gladio assented with a slow nod. Obviously the man wasn't sure if sudden movement might set him off again. 

Gladio didn't understand how a man could be so blasé about the whole situation. Even if the man was Cor. 

"Is Prompto okay?" That was a dumb question. Obviously not. 

But… still. He needed to know. 

Cor shrugged his shoulders as he crossed to a locker room bench and sat down with all of the regality he could afford with a pair of blood stained boxers and pants balled in a pile not two feet away. He took up a relaxed position, elbows resting on knees as he leaned forward and clasped his hands in a posture that most doctors sat in before giving bad news. 

"Prompto is… stable enough, I believe. The prince grabbed his advisor, who quite literally flew in and insisted he tend to the boy rather than a team of well trained doctors. Since then, we haven't been able to find any of them. Probably a good thing, if the state of that avian’s feathers were anything to go by."

Gladio flinched. It took a lot to ruffle Ignis's feathers. He would know, considering he was usually there when it happened, if not a direct cause. "I really don't know what happened, sir."

The lion nodded, "I know. Or, at least I suspected."

Gladio scoffed under his breath, but obviously the large cat heard him. "Yeah, right."

Cor grinned wryly back at the younger man. "Are you second guessing a superior?"

That barely simmering rage bubbling jut beneath the surface exploded. “How would you just ‘know?!’ You don’t understand anything about what this is like!”  

Gladio choked on air when he realized that he had exited the stall, teeth bared, claws extended towering over the Marshal, who was surprisingly unfazed. 

Cor watched, an unimpressed quirk of his brow the only change in his features. “Well, that’s one way to get you out of that stall, I guess.” No wonder the man was known as a fearless leader. “Are you finished? Or do you need someone to unleash your frustrations on? Because I would have thought mauling a young human would have been enough to release any pent up emotions you might have weighing on you, but I must be wrong.” The words were said in his usual, even tone, but they were heavy enough that the young shield physically recoiled from the verbal blow. 

“I… I’m sorry.” 

“It isn’t me you should be apologizing to.” Cor closed his eyes and shook his head. “This isn’t an ideal situation, but it wasn’t exactly a surprise, either. You forget I grew up with your father. He lost control around your age too. For almost no reason, so it would seem. He and I often went toe to toe when I would step between him and whomever was in his sights. I was generally the victor in those rage induced battles if Regis wasn’t quick enough to step in.”

Gladio never knew this, but it made him gape. “How?” He didn’t think anyone could beat his father. 

“When he is normal I don’t stand a chance against him. When he went berserk, however, he lost his mind.” Core explained. “He became an animal, and animals made of shear strength like you and your father have an abysmal sense of strategy. Hit once and hit hard. If what you really need to calm down is a thorough ass kicking, I am sure I could provide you with one.”

Gladiolus grimaced. There was so much he didn’t know about his father. No wonder Cor wasn’t cowed by the oncoming threat of a raging Behemoth Zóa. 

“What usually set dad off?” The words sounded so wrong on his tongue. He wasn’t sure if it was because he was asking a personal question about his father to someone like Cor, or the fact that he called the man who raised him his ‘dad’ for the first time in what must have been years. It just felt weirder referring to his father as ‘sir,’ in such a context for some reason. 

The corner’s of Cor’s lips quirked almost imperceptibly downward. “Usually if he felt like he was being threatened in some way. As I am sure you know, going Berserk is unavoidable in a serious fight, but there were occasions, like when he felt someone under his protection was being threatened, sometimes not even physically. He couldn’t control it all the time, and it took him a long time to get to the mental state he has today. I was under the impression he would warn you about it and try to prep you, considering you both are Behemoth and thus might both have similar reactions to certain stressors.” Cor sighed. “I guess lack of communication is more common in a family than the blessing.” He steepled his fingers, hunching over contemplatively, mulling over the situation they found themselves in. “So, I guess that begs the question, doesn’t it?”

“What question?”

“Did you see Prompto as a threat of some kind?” Cor prodded. “Animal instincts don’t lie. Not to say that I wasn’t occasionally doubtful of your father’s, but long before you were in the picture there was an instance where I thought your father was wrong and eventually cursed myself for not taking him seriously enough.”

“You know, if you would have asked me that five weeks ago, I would have told you yes. But…” Gladio shook his head, “I know the human, Prompto, has nothing but Noctis’s best interest at heart.”

“Then let’s work our way up to now. How did you meet the human?”

Gladio shrugged, turning around to grab a towel before rummageing through random lockers for something to wear. After all, it was going to be quite a long story, and by the time he was done he was sure he could expect more company to join them. 

He doubted they all would take to his nudity as well as the unfazable Immortal. While he dug around, he talked. 

Cor was kind enough not to interrupt him. 

Chapter Text

It had all started when Noctis dragged the human to his sparring session one day.

To be more specific, the first time Gladio had met Prompto, he had thought it was all some elaborate joke. After all, Noctis had rarely showed any interest in… well, people in general if the shield were to be honest; Zóa or human. The closest thing to a friend Noctis had was Gladio himself, and even that became strained around Noctis’s tweens. He would have included Ignis on that list, but he was pretty sure that one of the requirements for being a friend was a propensity to have fun. Ignis was far too serious all the time, and because of that, he and the prince had often found ways to constantly frazzle the other man for their own amusement over the years. Though, that seemed to fade away with time, and Ignis always took it like a champ if it meant earning a smile from their prince. 

And if he were being honest, while Ignis was about as entertaining as a feather duster on a good day, he was probably the second closest to being the prince’s friend in the castle. While Gladio had to admit that he originally was skeptical of the Avian being close to his prince (it was his job as shield to be overly cautious, after all), he had developed a begrudging affection for the winged Zóa that had earned Noctis’s trust, which was not an easy thing for a being to do when faced with a blossoming empath. Some how, Ignis, like with everything else he accomplished in life, made it look easy. 

Then, Gladio had no clue what exactly happened, but Noctis began pulling away from everything and everyone. He flinched away from everyone’s touch, distanced himself so much that Gladio got emotional freezer burn. 

The most he ever saw of his charge since high school was during training and during events he needed escorted to and from for protection. Once their lessons were over for the day, the normally gloomy boy’s gem would fade from an energetic purple back to its usual brooding red, and then he would leave, rarely ever taking his guard up on any after training activities like he use to when younger. 

It must have been a faze, Gladio originally thought. He would grow out of it just like he grew into it. 

But the years past, and he didn’t. In fact, he got worse. 

Still, it wasn’t like Gladio hadn’t tried about everything in the book to lighten the kid up. He had. Just, each and every year into the prince’s teenage angst he became harder and harder to reach, and Gladio became more confused and at a loss as to what drove this ever widening rift between them. It almost seemed like the harder he tried, the harder he would get pushed away. 

He took it as part of his mission to protect the future king, much like his father had years before. Not only was it important to protect his charge’s physical health, but his mental health as well. 

Considering Noctis was a Carbuncle, mental health was a very touchy but serious subject. Many Kings before Regis had been on the verge of madness. Even Regis himself had moments Gladio’s father refused to talk about, but was occasionally pulled away from his family and even in the middle of the night to handle. According to the few who talked about it, the king occasionally had night terrors. 

Normal human night terrors were frightening enough. Zóan night terrors had the added ability to be down right dangerous, but a Carbuncle? Something that could project emotions? 

That wasn’t something Gladio wanted to consider. It was probably why the King was guarded by only those mentally strong enough to withstand such attacks. Though, the number of people who could withstand mental projections of such a level had dwindled over time as the King’s mind grew stronger, and his companions fell to war and ill health. The only people Gladio knew who stood by the king in his most desperate times were his father, the Marshal, and Monica. They were capable of pulling him out of his mind as well, but it was difficult, and that level of power they faced every time was as dangerous as it was sought after. 

As the King himself put it once when Gladio mentioned his straining relationship with the prince,  “Knowing another’s heart means never truly knowing your own.”

Gladio never understood what that exactly meant, but he did know he didn’t want that for Noctis, the sweet boy he had once enjoyed watching play with his sister. Even a blind man could tell that the king wanted such a life for his son even less. 

Often times, Gladio suspected the king married a human hoping against all hopes that any child from their union would lack the blessing, but he knew it wasn’t his place to ask such a presumptuous question. The King’s late wife was a taboo subject. Even the information surrounding the incident was kept quiet beyond the fact she died of poison. 

So, he tried and tried to connect with his charge long after his prince adamantly began to refuse his presence. He tried to connect with the younger Zóa through sports, and girls, and even bribing him with alcohol on one occasion, but the prince wasn’t interested any more, and it stung like the flat of a blade. 

He wasn’t above asking Ignis for help as well, because if he couldn’t get through to his charge, perhaps the winged man’s gentler approach would? Of course, when Noctis found out about that, he got even angrier with Gladio, and the shield felt helpless as that pushed Noctis even further from him, and accidentally made Ignis a target of the prince’s cold shoulder as well. 

Even Ignis had a hard time compartmentalizing everything enough to do his own job while worrying after his prince. Gladio could tell the man began to overwork himself to distract himself from the hurt that was caused by Noctis’s unforeseen behavior change. Cooking more meals, fluffing pillows, opening doors and pulling out chairs to try to earn his way back into Noctis’s good books, not even fully comprehending how he was erased from them in the first place. 

While before the two retainers had very little in common to bond over beyond a blessing and their charge, they quickly began to find more things to talk about as Noctis continued to pull away. 

Gladio was sure he wasn’t sending off the wrong message mentally, because all he ever did was layered with selfless care, and worry, and the need to help and protect the smaller Zóa. 

After a while, though, there was only so much he could take. Gladiolus wasn’t the most patient of beings, and playing the roll of protector, teacher, and friend was a hard balance to keep all the time. And it hurt each and every time Noctis detached, ripping the wound open time and time again. 

There was a whole lot less work when it came to making friends with others, anyway. When he had overwhelmingly bad sessions with the prince, he would often find himself seeking the company of those who were a whole lot easier to get along with instead of the fickle, young prince who seemed at times to enjoy finding new ways to loath the world around him: like someone in the Glaive, the Crown Guard, or even his own sister, who was enchanted with just about everything. 

Anyone was easier to interact with than the prince, and after years of trying to break through to Noctis, he began to feel like his offers to take the other out after a spar were more reflex than anything, and the casual way the dower prince rejected him time and time again was the same, less painful, more expected. 

So, it stood to reason why he didn’t actually believe his eyes when one day, while he was sharpening one of his blades before their lesson commenced, he noticed the prince dragging a somewhat nervous looking bundle of insecurities through the training doors with him. And yes, Gladio didn’t need to be an empath to see the human was strangely uncomfortable in his own skin. 

The first thing that stuck out to Gladio, and probably everyone else they had passed in the hallway, was the fact that the blond was a blessless. That was mostly because of the fact that it was unusual to see humans in or around the castle at all, and the few that dwelled there were well known and respected for their own merits, despite being unimportant enough to lack any form of favor from the Six. 

The second thing he noticed was that Noctis was actively touching the other, which was odd. Noctis usually avoided touch, which was very frustrating considering he flinched away every time Gladio tried to correct a stance, and he had the tendency to go on defense just to remain out of range of his opponent’s physical blows. 

It was disconcerting to the guard that the prince’s guest had no tail or wings or anything of the like, mostly because of how other Zóa would react.  Already he could see how a few of the guards outside the room had paused to eye the newcomer with varied looks of confusion and disgust. Despite how frustrated he was about whatever was going on with Noct, he still wanted to see him succeed. 

Despite the fact humans were supposed to be of equal status, there were still many on the court who thought differently, and Noctis had an image to uphold to the kingdom. Especially after the disaster that was the late queen’s assassination. They didn’t need the level of unrest that came both before and after her death. 

Even more than all that, the boy was a stranger whom he knew nothing about. For all Gladiolus knew, the human was looking to harm the prince in some way. He somehow tricked Noctis into letting him get close, but Gladio wouldn’t let himself be fooled. The blond shouldn’t be at the young Prince’s side, and definitely not at the castle. 

Obviously and surprisingly, the blond shared that sentiment, because his frantic voice carried across the room. “Noct, man, I really don’t think this is a good idea.” Though, despite the fact he was vocalizing his uncertainty, the boy wasn’t exactly fighting the Prince’s grip on his arm. “I’ll just wait in your study! I’ll play some games till you get back or something. I just really don’t think someone like me should be in here.” The boy, shifted and looked at the people training on the mats around them, as if one of them would stop their spar mid session just to come over and tell him off. Even from a distance, Gladiolus’s behemoth based blessing made his eyes zero in on the young human’s bobbing adam’s Apple as it swallowed back its fear. 

Sometimes being a predator was a good thing. He knew instantly the boy was hiding something. Something to do with his plans for Noctis, perhaps?

Instead of assure the other that he wasn’t any different than anyone else like some cheesy hallmark movie, Noctis just snorted. “If I left you alone in my rooms by yourself you would probably just try to finish the project. Not to mention that watching me fight will be, like, a million times cooler than any video game.”

“I’m sure it is, but–“

Noctis’s ears twitched. “Fine then, let me explain this in a way you might understand: what would be more acceptable for a royal guard to come across, a stranger in the Prince’s personal rooms, or a classmate waiting for the Prince to finish up with his lessons?”

“Um… I guess I could go home and we could do the project on another night?”

“Shut up.”

Gladio swung his blade behind his back, deciding to approach them and see what kind of a reaction he might get from the stranger. To his amusement, the human noticed him before Noctis did, eyes widening.

When Gladio finally reached them with a toothy smile on his face, he expected the human to flinch. Heck, most Zóa flinched too. Who wouldn’t when presented with an over six foot wall of muscle for the very first time? Gladio’s curved horns, one of which was broken at a jagged angle to compliment his battle scar quite nicely, curved forward above either ear, and his deadly incisors had a tendency to shock others into silence as well. The strong, nearly bald tail that curled itself like a thick snake around his waist was usually the last thing they noticed as their eyes perused down his frame, though by far not the least deadly with it’s shocking strength and speed. 

Strangely enough, he didn’t get any kind of normal reaction from the human.

“Holy crap!” The blond gasped, a smile spreading across his features, making Gladio’s pace falter at the intense enthusiasm he was met with. “You must be Gladio! Noctis told me so much about you,” he gushed as he threw himself forward, dragging the prince along when he stubbornly refused to detach. Prompto caught himself too late and realized what he was doing was pretty weird for a complete stranger. He looked like he was going for a handshake, maybe a hug, but stopped himself last second before settling into a strange, arm flailing bow. 

…Gladio really didn’t know what he was witnessing anymore, responding to the bow with an equally awkward thumbs up. “Um… cool,” he eyed Noctis uncomfortably, not sure why his charge was smirking at him, though deciding to wipe that look off his face. “He hasn’t told me shit about you.”

The blond didn’t seem the least bit perturbed about that, despite the frown that twitched its way onto the Prince’s lips. 

“Oh! My name is Prompto, sir!” He bowed again, this time looking a lot more practiced. “Sorry for not introducing myself first! It’s just… you are so much bigger than I imagined! Like, you know how sometimes you hear stories about people, and you come up with how they look in your head, and when you meet them in person, it’s all like, ‘no way!?’”

He looked between the normally quiet prince, who had tightened his grip on the boy, and then back at the blond, and then back at the prince, trying to figure out what exactly was happening. Was he being punked? This had to be a joke. There was no way his dower prince was hanging out with this excitable teen of his own accord. 

Surely not. 

Noctis grimaced and yanked hard on the enthusiastic teen. It didn’t escape his guard’s notice that the movement put the blond somewhat behind the Prince, nor did he miss the way Noctis’s tail flicked a few times before finding purchase around the human’s hip. “Sorry. Prompto gets a little chatty when he’s nervous.”

“No, like, seriously, I thought he was gonna be boring and old! Your guard looks super cool!” 

Gladio scratched the back of his neck in confusion. ‘Cool…’ definitely wasn’t what he had been going for. He must have lost his touch. Then again, if that was the case Noctis wouldn’t have found the need to pull his classmate behind himself. Maybe the kid was just slow. Maybe Noctis was pitying him for that very reason. That was much more plausible, but not by much. 

Instead of continuing to guess, he decided to voice his confusion. After years of hanging around an empath, he was use to speaking his mind immediately rather than leave it up to Noctis’s interpretation. 

“Why are you here?” He stared pointedly at the blond. 

Noctis stepped in, though with the way the other boy had instantly opened his mouth and took a deep breath, he was sure Prompto would have given a much more amusing, if not lengthy, response. “We have a group project in class. It’s due soon, so I figured we could do it after my training with you,” Noctis said innocently enough, though Gladio knew he was angling for something else. Noctis was always trying to get out of practice these days. 

Gladio sighed, deciding to grant the prince what he was after if it simply got him out of the odd human’s presence. “Take the day off. Finish your project. We will do a double session tomorrow when you aren’t entertaining guests.” Gladio spun on his heals, tail slithering dangerously along the ground behind as he hefted the sword around like it weighed nothing, moving to place in on the highest rung on the rack in a last ditch attempt to shock or frighten the human. 

When he looked back he saw a look on the blond’s face that was akin to hero worship, and was dancing dangerously over the edge to fanboy, Gladio grimaced, finally understanding why Cor was so against the crowds that congregated in the gym when he was training. Having someone fawning over him while he was trying to be deadly made Gladio feel like he somehow missed the mark. 

He wasn’t cool, damn it! He was threatening! Scary, even! Why wasn’t the boy cowering?

Gladio shrugged it off, turning to the showers, planning to practice his looks in the mirror to see where he went wrong. Maybe he wasn’t bearing his teeth enough?

As he passed the two, he brushed close enough to the human that their arms touched. Well, let’s be honest, it was more of a shoulder check. 

He didn’t expect anything from it, but his sensitive nose caught a whiff of something not normal on the boy. Something sickeningly sweet, like rotting fruit and curdled milk. The smell clung to his nostrils and he just couldn’t shake it. 

He wrinkled his nose, sneezing several times as he kept walking, ignoring the obviously fake complaints about canceled practice coming from Noctis as he hurried his pace to the exit. 

The only time he ever smelled something that foul before was when his grandfather got sick a few months prior to his death, and that definitely didn’t bode well at all for the human. 

Either something was really wrong, like, cancer level wrong, or the boy had bathed in garbage earlier that day. Which was also wrong, but a different kind of wrong. The fact that Noctis wasn’t responding to the smell furthered Gladio’s believe that it was the former, and not the latter. His sense of smell (being canidae as a behemoth) was strong enough that he could sense fear depending on his opponent’s sweating. 

The boy hadn’t even been sweating, though, and it definitely wasn’t fear he smelled. He smelled pain. He smelled death. He smelled sickness. 

Gladio still didn’t like the feeling he got from the human. In fact, the realization that the boy might be sick gave Prompto motive to move against the crown. What if the human was after Noctis for his gem in hopes it could heal him?

No. He was thinking about it too hard. Noctis said the boy was only there to do a project. Obviously Noctis brought the boy to his training to try to scare him off with the threat of his shield and to leverage Gladio into letting him off training for the day so he could do his homework. He would probably never see the blond again. 

But then again, why had Prompto mentioned that Noctis had told him about his shield? Noctis didn’t talk to anyone. About anything. Ever. He seemed to think that everything and everyone was beneath him lately. 

Gladio shook the thought from his head, stripping his clothes and stepping into the shower to scrub the odd stench off his arm. 

He would approach Noctis about it the next day. He had a double training lesson anyway. That meant they would have to take a break. And if they took a break, he could work it into a normal conversation. 

He could just hear it now. ‘So, what was with that weird human kid? Did you really talk to him about me?’

Oh well. He had the night to figure out how to word it so it didn’t make him sound needy. 

Maybe it would fix itself without his intervention. Surely it was less of a deal than he thought. 

He didn’t realize how wrong he was about the situation till his father approached him in the kitchens later while he was bothering a cook. 

His father never approached him unless it was very important. 

“Gladio, follow me.” The other disturbing thing about his father’s words was the fact he wasn’t reprimanding him for his idle activities. Flirting with or bothering the staff was not conducive to his position, as his father pointed out many times before, but with no Noctis to pal around with he had taken up the sport. It wasn’t like he had much else to do while Noctis was being so surly. 

Still, he was sure his father would bring it up when they reached their destination.

He followed the man like a guilty pup, his tail coiling protectively around his waist and wrapping between his legs, his lightly fur tipped ears flattening ever so slightly beneath his horns as he kept his eyes glued to the ground, certain that this conversation would be anything but good. 

It must have been a sight to see for anyone they passed by. 

His father was nowhere near as tall as Gladio was, but he was a sight to behold as far as Zóa were concerned. 

Normal behemoths were rare, ancient predators dating back as far as prehistoric times, sometimes even pictured in paintings of the Gods. The resulting mix of a Behemoth was a mystery, but many believed them to be canine mixed with some sort of buffalo or ox, or even an elephant; all animals that had long ago gone extinct. However, all that speculation did little to explain their extremely thick, long tails and razor sharp claws. All traits that transferred over into their Zóan counterparts. It also did little to explain why his father had begun growing great, black, bat-like wings from his back almost ten years prior, despite the fact his blessing should have been done manifesting long ago, along with a second set of horns and deadly spikes tipping his once bare tail. He was quite a terrifying sight to behold, and the people had begun reverently referring to the Amicitia Patriarch as the “Behemoth King,” much to his father’s irritation. As far as he was concerned there was only one rightful king of Insomnia, and he was not it. 

Thankfully, M class were rare, and behemoths were even rarer. Like the Carbuncle, it was one of the few blessings that actually continued in a family line. It was also one of the few canine related blessings found outside of the empire and the many countries it had claimed through war. The few other canines Gladio knew were refugees who had joined the Kingsglaive. Considering the fact that Insomnia was majorly a Feline Zóa City, they were sadly mistreated, often times called Niflheim Dogs, despite the fact that they tended to loathe Niflheim more than anyone he knew. 

His father stopped before the door, his wings flaring out as he guided his son into the empty room. Even if he didn’t want to go in, the way his father’s bat-like wings were unfurled made any escape further down the hall impossible. He stepped through the door, bowing his head reverently at his father as he passed. “What is it you would like to discuss with me, sir?”

His father made sure to shut the door to the chamber room, ignoring his son’s words till he had a glass in his hand and he was seated. Only then did Gladio find a seat as well. While he didn’t have the same need for a pack as a regular canine Zóa, he still recognized his father as his better. Even though Behemoths were not pack animals, his father would be respected. His instincts refused to let him disobey. 

“There are some… troublesome rumors surrounding the prince,” his father started. “I am sure you have noticed his new companion today?”

Rather than interrupt, he nodded, eyes fixed submissively on the ground. 

“It has come as a shock to many of the court’s members that this Human has found its way into a royal’s good graces.” Clarus calmly talked as if they were discussing the color of the sky, rather than a blessless child. “Especially considering the… peculiar nature of the Carbuncle in question.”

Gladio had to hold back a snort at that assessment. Noctis was truly one of a kind. 

“Because of the similar status of the king’s late wife, who, as you know, was unblessed, and… lacking status, I fear what a few of the more conservative council members might do to prevent them from continuing their unorthodox friendship.”

Gladio scrunched up his face as he tried to take in everything his father had just said. If anything, he was positive his father would want him to run the runt off, not… hint at a further protection. Still, he waited for his father to finish his line of thought. 

“Considering Noctis’s penchant for causing trouble on occasion, and his recent behavioral changes, I am not certain what his plans are for the boy, but I can only imagine the worst. Noctis is more of a threat on Prompto Argentim’s life than the boy poses to the prince at the moment. Upsettingly enough, should the boy befall a similar fate as Noctis’s mother for any reason that can be traced back to the crown being even partially responsible… well, I am sure I needn’t remind you of the riots that were caused after the late queen’s death, despite how young you were.” Gladio’s age had little bearing on the matter. Riots after the Queen’s death had been the cause of his late mother’s unfortunate end. He would never be able to forget that day. “The more liberal council members would do everything in their powers to ensure such an incident would reach the right ears to cause a panic.”

That made more sense. He took a deep breath and nodded. “What would you like me to do about it, sir?”

His father eyed him over his glass of eye matching amber contemplatively. “I would simply like you to keep an eye on it. Get close to the situation so you can ensure it doesn’t escalate. Defuse the situation if you must. Learn Prompto’s intentions, and if they are ill, use gold over threats to sway him into keeping his distance. If you discover Noctis’s intentions, inform me or the king immediately so we can create a plan to prevent Noctis’s prank, if that is the case, from reaching fruition. I need you to protect both of them, while still being weary about their possible motivations. Can you do that?”

That was hardly a duty he could turn down, considering. And his instincts drove him like a puppy to please it’s master when his father was involved. 

“I’ll do it!”

Oh, how he wished he never would have spoken those words. 

The next day he was running late. He had ended up talking to Ignis way longer than usual about an upcoming security detail and found himself running to get to the gym before Noctis left. 

The sight he was met with was… disconcerting. He felt his blood run cold and the hair at the nape of his neck prickle as his eyes zeroed in on the human, red seeping into his vision before he took a few relaxing breaths. It was because he recognized Prompto as a threat, obviously. He wasn’t jealous. Amicitia’s were above that sort of thing. 

But damn, did it sting to see someone so unworthy basking in the attention of his prince…

Noctis was sitting crisscross with his blond classmate kneeled close enough that their legs were touching. Prompto was pulling random things out of his backpack, and applauding when the items went up in crystallized shards. 

“That is so cool!” Prompto gushed when Noctis absorbed the last item of the boy’s backpack, and then took the backpack as well and banished it. “I don’t even care if I never get it back!! That is freaking sweet, dude! What would happen if you did that to a person?”

Noctis shrugged with a self satisfied smirk. “I’ve never been tempted to try that out before.”

And hopefully he never would, Gladio thought with a scowl. A typical, blatant disrespect for magic was normal for Noctis. What wasn’t typical was how Noctis had obviously dragged the blond along for a second day to get out of practice in the same week. And no excuses about homework or projects were going to trick Gladio into putting anything off for two days in a row. 

He should have known better than to let it slide the first time. 

“The Magic of the Kings is not a toy,” Gladio barked from directly behind them, making both jump. It was nice to know he hadn’t lost his touch completely after yesterday’s incident. He finished it off by swatting Noctis on the back of the head, making him yowl. “It takes training, discipline, and lots of energy to use that kind of magic. You have none of those three, so I suggest you stop.”

Prompto looked shocked and appalled at the fact his entertainment had been at the Prince’s expense. “Ohmygosh! I swear, I didn’t- I just assumed-“

Noctis slapped a hand over the blond’s face, irritated and looking like someone particularly heavy stepped on his tail. “You were running late,” he pointed out dryly. “Had to find a way to keep myself entertained.” With a flick of his wrist, Prompto’s backpack reappeared on the ground in front of them, stuffed full once again. 

Prompto couldn’t help but awe in amazement despite himself, which made the Prince’s ears perk slightly while Gladio looked on with an ever deepening scowl. 

Gladio rolled his eyes. “Get on the mat. Instead of wasting energy with your buddy Bernardo or whatever, you should have started on stretches.” His eyes landed on the uncomfortably flushing blond and he breathed through his nose, face crinkling when he was met with that same smell, confirming that the day before hadn’t been a one-off. He would have to breath through his mouth for the rest of the day. “Don’t think I will let you out of practice a second time just because of your classmate being here. Again.”

“It’s Prompto, and actually,” Noctis hissed, pulling the teen to his feet with him, “I was planning on asking you a favor…”

And that was how Gladio found an easy  way to infiltrate Prompto’s everyday life. After all, his father seemed to think it was a good idea to get close to the human, and Noctis had a way of getting under his skin. Betting Gladio that he couldn’t train Prompto was a pretty good way to do it. Of course, he didn’t word it that way in front of the blond, but Gladio knew a challenge when he heard one. 

Only later did he realize that some challenges were made to be lost. And by later, he actually meant five minutes. 

Gladio watched the blond as it dangled from one of the easier knotted climbing ropes in the gym. Some how, the boy had managed to climb halfway up, then lost his footing and was now clinging on for dear life with only his arms to support him. Determined not to lose his progress, he was kicking his legs like a propeller and, from the sounds of it, talking the rope into submission with embarrassingly polite threats. 

Gladio sighed as he watched on, wondering if he should go and help the human, or continue to watch it struggle till it accepted defeat and fell onto the padded mat of its own accord. He looked around the gym, embarrassed to note some of the other inhabitants watching on in amusement or scowling at the teen that wasn’t taking training seriously enough. Then there was Drautos, who had stopped momentarily at the entrance of the gym to see what the commotion was about before leaving again without a word. 

“So, what do you think?” Noctis muttered from beside him. It was the first time Gladio had a chance to talk to the prince without the feline pawing all over the human. Actually, it was the first time in a very long time since Noctis initiated conversation with him of his own accord. While Gladio disliked the subject matter, it made him smile despite himself. 

“You are joking, right? Please tell me this is a joke,” Gladio practically wined. And by ‘this,’ he totally meant Prompto in general. The kid had to be a joke on the whole court! Noctis did some strange, and occasionally cruel stuff for his entertainment, but Gladio had to agree that catering to one of his classmates greedy fantasies just to pull the wool out from under him would have been hilarious to some degree. But there were surely plenty more deserving people at Noctis’s school, and Prompto seemed relatively harmless so far, if a bit too positive. It was making Gladio feel almost bad for hating him. 

Maybe that was why Noctis was targeting him? Maybe the overly happy teen ticked him off simply by being happy. Gladio could support that. His chipper attitude certainly was grating on his nerves as well. Not like he would ever trust the boy around the prince, even if he did find him bearable in a social setting. He was a guard. No amount of innocent play-acting would make him relax in his duties. Something wasn’t quite right about the boy. 

Noctis seemed to sense his discomfort, because he shot him a look. “Do you really think I would joke about something like this?”

Um… he could say yes, and if he was wrong he would risk the Prince’s wrath and ire, or he could say no and risk the prince taking offense that he would willingly accompany a human for anything but his own amusement. 

It was a coin toss, but the longer he stayed indecisive the more likely the prince would be able to glean his true thoughts from his emotional state anyway. He decided to take the Ignis route of diplomacy till he could better feel out the situation. 

“He… has potential?” Gladio hedged, wincing when the blond dropped to the ground flat on his back, gasped a few breaths, and then immediately tackled the rope again. 

The prince ran a hand through his hair and shook his head… fondly? That wasn’t right. The prince wasn’t fond of anything but his own misery. 

“You don’t have to lie to me,” he chuckled. He actually chuckled! “I know he is kinda hopeless, but when he talked to me the other day about the Crownsguard after seeing the training room… he was so excited. I couldn’t stop myself from telling him I could at least get him some training with a pro.”

Gladio’s eyes widened. Noctis was being serious? “Wooh, there buddy. Calm your tits. I said he had potential. Everybody has potential.” He looked back at the struggling blond and winced at the newest predicament he got himself into, hanging upside down from where his foot somehow got wrapped in the rope, blood flow turning his face dangerously purple. “I just think his kind of strengths might lean more towards… Court Jester or stand up comedian? I’m not a mirical worker.”

“I’m not asking that.” It certainly sounded like he was asking that. “I’m just asking that you give him direction.” The only direction Gladio could give him was to avoid any fight in the near future and play dead if he ended up in a bad situation. And stop hanging out with Noctis. Heck, his father was worried about Noctis causing his death. The kid would more than likely trip on a carpet and brain himself without anyone’s help. 

Then again… he knew nothing of the boy. What better way to gain access to any unknown motives than by training with him regularly. What better way to regain favor with the prince than play along with his game for the time being. 

“Fine, but not for a few months. I have other matters to attend to before I can fit him into my busy schedule,” he finally spat out, words bitter on his tongue. He didn’t like it. However, he couldn’t stop himself from wondering if maybe Prompto’s new role in the Prince’s life was just a result of him failing to reach out during the last few years. Maybe his frustration at the Prince’s solitude led his charge to seek company elsewhere. That wouldn’t have been surprising. 

He wanted to blame Prompto so much, but he couldn’t find it in his heart to do so. If Noctis sought the company of someone else as a friend, it was because he had failed his prince. He just had to make sure the new character wouldn’t hurt his prince beyond reproach. 

Noctis sniffed. “What are you thinking about?” His eyes shifted back to his guard. “You reek of failure. Do you really think Prompto is that hopeless?”

“I…” he wanted to say so many things, but he stopped himself when he saw the way his charge’s gem was a few shades lighter than normal. 

A few shades away from happy. 

He swollowed his words and shook his head, unable to meet his charge’s inquisitive eyes. “You know that you can come to me about anything, right?” 

It was so much easier when Noctis was a child. When Noctis was new to touch, and when emotions were like butterflies, each one interesting, unique and ticklish, rather than burdensome and painful. 

“Um… yeah?” Noctis shot him a look that questioned his shield’s sanity before lingering on his scar and shattered horn for just a moment too long to be coincidence, making Gladio suddenly self-conscious and powerless and pained, and for that moment, he wondered if what he was feeling was truly his own. 

Noctis shook his head, looking back at Prompto with a twisted grin. “Not like you have a choice,” he responded carelessly, sharp tone puncturing the soft moment like an arrow. “You are duty bound. You are my shield forever and foremost. Of course I can come to you. That’s literally your job. Dad would have gotten rid of you if I thought differently.” 

Every word was like a razor to his pride, hand itching to reach up to cover the scar he once proudly took for his friend… no, his prince. Noctis should have never been that close to danger in the first place. If Gladio had been doing his job correctly, he wouldn’t bear such a unsightly mark. Was that why Noctis started avoiding him? Did he no longer trust him with his own safety? Could he not stand the sight of his shield’s failure marring his face? Was the only thing keeping him in his position the King’s faith in Clarus’s son?

Was that what the prince thought of him? 

He needed to say something. Defend himself. Anything. 

But the moment passed too quickly.

Gladio was thrown off balance as he weighed what he heard, all the while words built up like a dam in the back of his throat. 

Simultaneously, Prompto had finally made it to the top of the rope, but couldn’t seem to find his way back down. He was still standing there, dumbfounded when Noctis ran off to talk the classmate through it, leaving Gladio there. 

Alone. 

No wonder Noctis sought the friendship of another. 

And didn’t that just sting? Didn’t that just make him want to hate the little blessless a little bit more? Living, breathing proof that he failed.  Proof that he messed up somewhere along the lines. 

He walked off, leaving the two teens alone in the training gym without a second thought. Part of him wanted to punch the kid for taking his rightful spot as Noctis’s friend. A spot he had been trained for since birth. If he did, though, Noctis would probably distance himself from him more. 

Then, there was the thought to discredit the blessless, prove to Noctis that he was after something. But that wouldn’t work either. Noctis was stubborn, and if he was proved wrong about this kid, chances were no one would ever get close to him again. 

He was already near unapproachable before. 

Maybe he could get close to Prompto? Make sure to keep Prompto in line? Make sure he didn’t break the Prince’s rare stroke of happiness? Threaten if he had to? 

If he could appear close to Prompto, protect him as well, he could get back into his Prince’s good graces. 

That was it! He would train Prompto regularly. Without the Prince’s knowledge for a while, just to ensure it would be just the two of them without Noctis stepping in and preventing any actual progress. Hopefully he could unwrap the mystery that was Prompto before Noctis caught on. 

He quickly made his leave, jogging down the hallway to the records office, using it to look up the human’s address. 

Prompto really should have been careful what he wished for. The boy was going to be in for an early morning of training. Ready or not. 

Gladio was done playing around. 

The next day was the weekend, and Gladio found himself standing smugly outside a quaint apartment building wearing his gym pants and a wicked grin. He decided to forgo the shirt for the time being, hoping his uncovered muscles would be enough to earn that fear he had missed out on in his first meeting. 

It was the crack of dawn, still mostly dark out when he knocked on the human’s door. He expected the boy’s mother or father to answer at this time of the day, perhaps readying to leave for work. 

Maybe they didn’t work on the weekend’s, though, because no one answered. 

He tried again, this time knocking loud enough that the cheep door’s paint flaked to the ground as it rattled in its hinges 

He was just about to hit the door even harder when it slowly creaked open, revealing the small blond teen, rubbing his eyes and blinking owlishly. It wasn’t till this moment that Gladio realized how extremely small this human was compared to himself. It would be so easy to just… get rid of him. 

As tempting as it was, he already promised himself the night before that he wouldn’t. But that didn’t mean that someone looking to harm the throne wouldn’t do just that. 

Gladio shook his head as he took in the teen’s shirtless form, realizing that, if he truly was going to commit to this, he had a long way to go. The PJ pants slung low on his hips, elastic stretched out from wear, and were those stretch marks? It was hard to imagine that this scrawny little waif use to be fat, but apparently he was. 

He wondered if Noctis had seen the dark, spiderlike veins before. He really didn’t like that idea, though. His prince shouldn’t be getting that close to a blessless. 

It took approximately five seconds of staring at each other before the groggy human realized what was at his door. His eyes widened, and the door, unsurprisingly, slammed in Gladio’s face. 

At least that was a normal reaction for a blessless to have. What a wonderful moment for the boy to realize his presence was a threat, though. 

He was considering if he should walk away or knock again when the door reopened, Prompto wearing a oversized shirt, the darkest blush spreading over his freckled features.

“I, uh—! I didn’t know you would… um—! Noct said you wouldn’t be able… Come in!! Please!! And sorry about the mess!”

Gladio’s lips quirked into a scowl when he realized that, yeah, no. This kid didn’t have a single ounce of self preservation in him if he was letting an M-class Zóa into the apartment with him alone. He would need to talk to someone about security. 

“Yesterday Noctis mentioned you wanted me to train you?”

Prompto stared up at him looking every bit like an excited puppy, complete with hand clasp and butt wiggle as he practically begged. “You… you mean that? You will train a blessless?”

Oh, Gods, it was hard to be angry at this kid when he was looking up at him all hopeful-like.

“I have some rules—“

He was cut off when the smaller teen tackled his midsection in an overly excited hug. Prompto, unaware at how close Gladio came to interpreting that movement as an attack, leaped back, fist-pumping the air with a series of hoops and hollers. 

Gladio had to physically grab the jumping jellybean with his hands, trying to make sure the blond actually listened to him while he literally vibrated under his hands. 

“First rule is you don’t… do that again.” He had no clue why he was flushing so hard at the look of hero worship the blond was beaming him with. 

“Yes, Sir!!” He had the energy to salute him at this time in the morning? Good God, what was wrong with this child? He liked him better when he was sleepy and half dressed…. 

Oh, goodness, that didn’t sound right. 

And now he was covered in that rotten stench Prompto brought with him everywhere. 

“Next, you can’t complain, or I stop. You fall behind, it means you obviously don’t want this enough, and I leave. I won’t give up on you unless you give up on you, get it?”

“Yes, Sir!!!” 

 “No time like the present, then. Get your ass in gear, because we are going for a run.”

“Yes, Sir!!”

Oh, Gods, what did he sign up for?

Much to his surprise, Prompto kept pace with Gladio’s long strides. Five miles later, though, Prompto was gasping like a dying fish, but he didn’t slow his pace. 

Taking pity on the determined human, Gladio had him drop and do fifty sit-ups. Then twenty five squats, 30 push-ups, five minutes of wall standing, and had him plank as long as he could till his arms gave out. 

He watched as sweat pooled in the dip of the determined human’s lips, dripping to the ground as he trembled on his seventh minute of planking. 

Oh, god he was enjoying watching the human struggle. He must have tricked the prince somehow, but even if his deception skills were amazing enough to fool an empath, at least he was bad at everything else. Should he end up trying anything, Gladio was very certain in his own capabilities to bring him down. 

What the hell did Noctis see in him? What about this puny human was better than a mighty beast?

Pathetic. 

Gladio shrugged his shoulders, and waited out the teen. He fell less that a minute later with a squeak. 

“Good job.” Gladio rolled his eyes. “Same time tomorrow?”

Prompto flopped to his back, looking up at him with tired eyes. “Tomorrow?”

“Yeah. And don’t tell Noctis.” He didn’t know why he said that, as his parting farewell. Obviously Noctis would figure it out. He would no doubt be pissed when he figured out that Gladio had met with his friend without his permission. Not to mention Noctis would smell his malice for the boy from a mile off, even if he didn’t want to immediately kill the boy any longer. “We want to surprise Noctis when we finally show him the results of all your hard work, don’t we?”

Prompto’s eyes went wide as they glittered with unshed tears of complete joy. “Yeah!! He will be so proud!”

Gods, this kid was gullible. 

That went easier than he expected. 

Still, Gladio was surprised when he returned home and the Prince didn’t immediately interrogate him about where he was. 

The next day came and went, and still, nothing from Noctis. An entire week passed and he had a feeling he was in the clear. 

Oddly enough, whenever Prompto was around, Noctis seemed to relax in other people’s presence in a way he hadn’t in such a long time. 

Several weeks passed, and there was no mention of his early morning routine with the blessless. Not to say Prompto didn’t still accompany Noctis to the castle, a large, telling smile spreading across his face every time they happened across Gladio. Even Ignis seemed to begrudgingly accompany the blond to and from different rooms while Noctis was busy with his princely duties. Obviously Clarus must have had a similar talk with the avian to garner that level of attention from the busy Zóa. When brought up in conversation with the feathered man, he seemed surprisingly amiable to the prince’s friend. After all, since he had appeared in their lives Noctis had become a whole lot more responsible. 

Weeks passed, and slowly Gladio realized that, even without Prompto at his hip, Noctis was happier than he had been for a very long time. He was smiling. He was laughing. And he even began to take Gladio up on his after practice excursions again, so long as they were within the castle walls. 

Prompto began improving as well, which was wonderful, except for the fact he still had a feeling the boy was using Noctis for something. 

It wasn’t for a few more months that Gladio finally figure out the truth. 

It was after a training session with Noctis. Prompto had been brought along to so he could observe. Much to his surprise, when he exited the showers, the young blond was waiting by his locker, awkwardly picking at his fingers while he no doubt waited for Noctis to finish up his usual hour long shower. 

“You planning on sitting there while I change, kid?” Gladio humphed. “Not that I really mind. Locker rooms aren’t exactly places for privacy, but I thought I should warn you before you get an eye full.”

Prompto’s back straightened, face flushing while he looked up at Gladio with a tearful face. 

Shit. Did the kid figure him out? 

“Listen,” Prompto stammered, fidgeting while he speeded his words up. “I’ll be quick so you can… I just wanted to… I’m not really good at talking to people, but thank you for humoring me these past several months.” Prompto looked shamed, and Gladio suddenly knew he was about to reveal himself. He both loved and hated the fact he would soon know the blessless was unworthy. After all, Noctis was improving and that would all go away once he had the proof to remove Prompto from the equation. Gladio had even begun to look forward to their little morning workouts, even if it was just for his own entertainment, watching the human try to keep up with him. 

“I know it is selfish of me to ask all that of you. The whole training thing? But… Noctis is the only person I know who seems to… tolerate me more than anyone else? I don’t know how to word it, and I don’t want to be presumptuous and call him, the prince, my friend… but yeah.” Gladio bit back a growl from escaping his throat. “I know that I am with him a lot, and when I am with him it is so easy to forget.”

‘To forget you don’t belong there,’ was what he wanted to say. What came out was, “To forget he is the prince?”

Prompto choked out a breathy laugh at that. “No. It’s no wonder he is the prince! He is just so freaking awesome, and kind, and generous, and calm and stoic and just all together princely that it would be impossible to forget how important he is.” Never before had Gladio heard such a thing about Noctis without the prince himself there to hear the usually false compliments of the council. There was no reason for Prompto to be saying this when it would earn him no favors. 

“Is that why you…” He twiddled his fingers awkwardly, hoping Prompto would get the gist of his comment without making him say the “f” word. He didn’t want to finish the thought with, ‘became his friend? To use him?’

“Exactly!” Prompto burst with an enthusiastic smile that most definitely didn’t fit what he was admitting to, and made the larger Zóa’s fists clench before the rest of his words came spilling out. “That’s why I need to learn! I don’t know why, but he keeps on spending his time with me when I know he must have more important things to do than hang out with me. I mean, that must be why he never had friends at school before, right?” Prompto hedged, “He never had time for them. But for some strange reason he is hanging out with me, and he is the freaking prince! What if someone attacked him, and only I was around? What if something happens at school? I know I wouldn’t be much against a Zóa, and I am pretty useless even for a human, but I need to at least become competent enough that I could buy the prince some time!”

Wait… what?

“I already know I have the right mentality for the job, but I just need the training to back me up.” 

Prompto beamed up at him, suddenly making the pit of his stomach drop out as his clenched fists went slack. He had no clue what direction this conversation was going in. “And what exactly is the right mentality?” 

“I would die for him.” Prompto stated as if it were both the most simple and obvious fact in the world. Gladio felt like Prompto could have punched him and it would have been less of a surprise than those words. “I would jump in front of a bullet if I had to. I would do anything to protect him, just like you.”

Prompto’s eyes fell upon Gladio’s eye and horn, but instead of disgust, he saw that same hero worship that he had noted the first day he met the human and every day after to a lesser degree. 

That’s what he must have meant when he said Noctis had talked about him before.

“Uh…” He awkwardly turned away so only his good side was facing the boy, making sure his shameful scars were hidden from the idolizing gaze. 

“I really don’t know what Noctis sees in me,” Prompto continued, “but until he realizes… well, I mean, as long as he keeps on dragging me everywhere, I might as well be of some use, right?”  

And that’s when Gladio knew. He knew he had been targeting the wrong person in this whole mess. Because this was what Noctis saw in the kid this whole time. 

That selfish little shit. He was worried Prompto was using Noctis… turns out Noctis was using Prompto.

But something about that smell still left Gladio feeling uneasy about this entire situation. Something about it was familiar, but he just couldn’t place from where. 

“I think you are ready, then.” Gladio announced with the uncomfortable grin of a man whose whole world view had been flipped in a matter of seconds. “Let’s show Noctis what your capable of tomorrow.”

The next day, Gladio subtly hinted at the fact that he wanted to see just what Prompto was able to do during Noctis’s lessons, which lead Prompto into position to show Noctis how able he was. 

Noctis still seemed to be in the dark about their pre-dawn training, and Gladio was going to set Prompto up for success. 

Prompto wanted to show off to the prince that he was able to protect him? Gladio could do that. He would make Prompto look good. He deserved that much, after all those months of Gladio badgering him with useless questions every morning during their runs. 

———back to present———

“It started off simple,” Gladio recounted to Cor. “We did some quick stretches, which lead into the hand to hand. It was the first time I ever actually fought him like that. All this time I only ever did endurance training with him, but the moment we started? That’s when my mind snapped. All those moves he used? There was something familiar about it. The jerky attacks, the instinctual dodges, the… that smell.”  Gladio gagged at the memory. “It changed the moment he started sweating.  It became… indescribable and familiar and I felt my control slipping. Then I landed a blow. I was able to pull it before it landed and actually hurt him, but my claw nicked his skin. And his blood.”

Gladio looked helpless. “Next thing I knew, it was everywhere, and I was attacking, my teeth were sinking into his neck, and I was refusing to let go. I was trapped in my own body and all I could think was that this had to be a nightmare. I screamed at myself to stop, but I didn’t till Nyx.”

His hands returned to his horns, pulling at them again. “With Prompto laying there, bleeding out on the ground, all I could think to myself was… if Noctis didn’t hate me before, he sure as hell is going to now. I’m a failure. I keep fucking everything up. I let that stranger get close to him and I got this scar. And now, I tried to kill his best friend.”

He sat there for a long time, just breathing as Cor watched on. 

“You said his movements reminded you of something,” the man finally spoke. 

Gladio barked a loud laugh. “I was wrong. He couldn’t be…. Something is wrong with me. I shouldn’t be allowed in public. I hurt Prompto. He might be dead right now!”

“I’m not here to listen to you make excuses,” Cor snapped. “All I want to know is what you were reminded of. What did he smell like when you were fighting him? Why did you loose control? Why did you attack an unarmed civilian supposedly unprovoked if there was no threat?”

“I was conditioned to go berserk in certain settings, only with certain stimuli, and I swear, for a moment, with that movement and that smell,” Gladio calmed and looked directly at the Marshal, eyes darkening, “I could have sworn he was an MT.”

Chapter Text

Ignis was pulling his feathers out over Prompto’s injury… both metaphorically, and literally. 

“It’s. Not. Working!” Ignis gritted his teeth, dropping the blood slicked feather to a growing pile on the ground next to where he was straddling an unconscious blessless on his couch and wincing as he yanked out yet another and pressed it against the bite, hoping against all hope that this one would fix it. This one had to cure the wound. Something in his stomach revolted violently every time he let the alternative cross his mind. 

“Maybe you aren’t old enough? Or is it because he’s not dead enough?” Noctis chirped unhelpfully in the background, fingers weaving through his hair, pulling it out like he was shedding as he paced back and forth. “M-maybe he needs to be more dead for it to work! Maybe we should…”

“Get me a potion, then!” Ignis finally snapped, fingers applying enough pressure to the softly feather on the gaping neck wound that he would stop the bleeding, but not choke the human out accidentally. He could feel the raised edges of the teeth marks beneath the down, and the way his feather, which usually did its best to repel liquid of all kinds, allowed itself to be drenched as a soft yet weak glow emitted between his tightly wrapped fingers. “I sure as hell am not going to let anyone ACTUALLY KILL him to test that stupid theory, and we don’t exactly have the time to wait for me to grow a few years older and a few new feathers!” The mere thought made him want to vomit and his wings tense around the form like he was Prompto’s last line of defense against the inevitable, curling around the teen like that would keep his lifeforce from draining from his body. 

Ignis noticed rather belatedly that his wings were shivering. He was sweating, yet his body was chilled at the thought that he had been neglecting Prompto all this time, and now this was the last moment he would ever share with his potential ma— Prompto. With his Prompto. 

“We can’t let Prompto die! Get the potion now!”

Noctis shakily nodded and promptly ran from the room, no doubt to retrieve the potion that Ignis was asking for while the advisor slowly lifted his hand and peeled back the soft down to observe the damage. Thankfully the bleeding had mostly stopped. That was good. It meant Gladio didn’t hit anything too major, by some miracle. Which meant… Gladio hadn’t been aiming to kill. Even more still, if he went feral, then that meant hiss inner Beast hadn’t been aiming to kill. Fat lot of help that did. 

The teen was still unconscious. Despite the fact the bite was no longer pulsing with blood, it was still extremely gory to look at. He was pale, but his breaths were stronger and evenly spaced now. His pulse was once again steady despite not being as strong as it could have been. Perhaps his feathers had done a bit of good?

Once he was satisfied that Prompto wouldn’t start bleeding again, he pulled the soaked feather further away from the bite, frowning at the way it… it seemed to have turned black. His feathers definitely weren’t black. Neither was the blood from Prompto’s neck wound. That didn’t change the fact that the used down appeared as though he had dipped it in oil or spilled ink. 

Unconcerned with Prompto for the moment, mostly considering the fact he was no longer threatening to bleed out all over the couch, Ignis gently carried his discolored feather over to the window, pulling open the curtains to let some light into the darkened rooms. Just as he held the feather up to the light to get a better look, it disintegrated in his hands, almost like the mere sunlight burnt it to ash. 

Curious. 

Were all his feathers reacting that way? Was this what happened to Phoenix feathers once they were used?

He looked towards the pile of used feathers left on the floor near the settee, ignoring the twinging pain in his left wing from where he had plucked a bald spot, only to be met with the sight of a tidy pile of ash on the carpet. He narrowed his eyes at it. Sure he didn’t know much about his own kind, but he was pretty sure that feathers turning to dust spontaneously would have been mentioned somewhere. 

He would have to talk to his uncle about this. 

Prompto gave a whimper and unconsciously rolled away from the sunlight. Ignis took pity and closed the curtain, once again drawing nearer to his…

His what? What was Prompto to him, really? He placed a hesitant hand on the boy’s pale cheek, frowning at how cold he felt. Right now he was his patient, and his patient needed blankets. And a bed. 

Ignis went into autopilot mode, moving Prompto’s body further into his chambers, and settling him in the center of his bed, tucking the blankets around him, then fluffing the pillows to give him something to do while waiting for Noctis to return. The blood was going to stain his bed, but he could handle that. He needed new bedding, anyway. Still, it couldn’t be comfortable having all that blood dried to his skin. 

Ignis gently maneuvered Prompto so he could remove the boy’s shirt, then did his best to mop up the blood with a packet of hand wipes he kept in his breast pocket. The entire time Prompto stayed silent and pliable, docile as a lamb. It was both soothing, and terrifying considering the level of energy he was use to seeing from his young human. 

Ignis tucked him back in and took a step back to view his work, brow furrowing. Something was missing. Another blanket, perhaps? 

Ignis quickly ducked into the closet, pulling out a few more blankets and draping them one after the other on top of his guest. He stepped back and scowled at the sight. Nope. That wasn’t it. Pillows? 

He dragged everything he had in the linen closet out, including nicer bed curtains, setting them to the side to hang later as he elevated Prompto’s head so he could shove a few more pillows under. When that didn’t work, he propped several stuffed chocobos next to the teen that Gladio had gotten him as a gag gift years back when his feathers had first started to grow in. As distasteful as Gladio was to his own thoughts at the moment, they felt right for some reason. 

Ignis darted back into his kitchen, wondering where Noctis ran off to, and realizing that, in their panicked state they totally forgot he could have summoned the potions. Perhaps Noctis had decided to run all the way to the castle infirmary in his distress? Maybe someone had interrupted him from his task? What would he say to the blond boy if he woke before Noctis got back?

Ignis looked through his shelves, finding the best glassware he owned and filling it with water, then grabbing some fresh fruit and placing it in a delicate bowl before returning to the room, setting it on the bedside table. 

A disturbingly empty table now that he looked at it. No. That would not do. 

He left the room, frantically looking for something to fill that space with and finding a dusty vase filled with half wilted flowers, and an ornate picture frame of him and his uncle. It wasn’t ideal, but it would have to do. 

He ran back to the room, carefully placing the items and observing the new look, eyes still falling on the lone, sickeningly pale form on his bed. 

His wings flexed and shifted restlessly as if they had a mind of their own, twitching and ruffling in irritation till a couple of feathers shifted loose and drifted to his feet. He was too focused on Prompto to notice or care, though he knew in the back of his mind it was going to be a long night of grooming before he ever got his wings looking semi-decent again. Feathers would grow back, though. Prompto would no doubt scar, but he would make it. He could pull through. He had to. It chilled Ignis’s hollow bones to the core just thinking that he might not. 

No. He needed to distract himself. Don’t think about it. Noctis would be back soon with the potion. It would all be better soon.  

His eyes drifted to the picture of him and his uncle back when he was much younger. Maybe he should give the man a call. He hadn’t talked to him since he had helped him with his monthly grooming several weeks ago. Surely he would know what was best for Prompto. He some how knew the best way to calm Ignis’s fraying nerves and find a good solution to any problem, despite the fact he wasn’t an avian. 

Ignis pulled his cellular out of his pocket, pressing the speed dial and resting it on his shoulder, listening to the dial tone as he continued to pace. 

The man didn’t answer. It shouldn’t have surprised him. He was a busy man. It was a work day. 

Ignis left a relatively composed (extremely clipped) message asking for his uncle’s assistance in his quarters at his soonest convenience and left it at that before turning back to the still deathly silent guest.

He had to double check his pulse to convince himself Prompto was still breathing. The boy was so gaunt. His skin was completely white and the skin under his eyes was getting dark and puffy with exhausted rings. 

What would Prompto want when he woke up? Wouldn’t he need something to keep him occupied while he regained his strength? What kinds of things would Prompto want?

He quickly found his TV remote, pulling Prompto’s arm from the uninjured side of his body(the same one donning his bracelet, Ignis noted) from the confines of the weighty pile of blankets, placing it gently in his limp grasp like an offering of sorts. It almost looked like he had fallen asleep watching the television. Ignis was oddly proud of the naturalness of the sight, grabbing a few of his favorite books off of his shelves and tucking those at Prompto’s side as well. Surely a few magazines and newspapers wouldn’t go amiss as well. And a game controller. It wasn’t plugged into the tv, but if he asked when he awoke….

Ignis was just pulling out a pair of his best silken PJs and preparing to fold them on the end of the bed when he heard the front door of his rooms bang open.

“Noctis? Noctis is that-“

Noctis shouted out from the main entrance, “Iggy!! Iggy where did you go!!! Where’s Pro…”

It was then that Noctis burst through the doors to his private rooms, mouth going slack at the sight of Ignis fussing over his best friend. The look on his face was oddly unsettling, eyes darting to the slowly rising and falling pile of sheets and pillows that was Prompto, to the various things Ignis had set up, then landing on Ignis, who’s wings wouldn’t stop shifting and fluttering with tension behind him as he fretted over the color of the sleepwear, wondering if it would compliment Prompto’s complexion or not. 

Noctis swiftly kicked the door shut behind himself, locking it and swearing, which caused Ignis to flinch and the unexpectedly hostile aura exuding from his prince. And to make matters worse, the chill was suddenly much worse than before. Ignis wondered briefly if the added degree change was brought on with Noctis’s emotions, or the thermostat was broken. Either way, the chill certainly wouldn’t be good for his feathers. 

“Where is the potion?”

“How long?” Those were the first intelligible words that had come out of Noctis’s mouth since he had come back. It was rather frustrating to Ignis that he could make out the shape of a potion in Noctis’s hand, but it seemed to have been forgotten in the Feline’s… was that anger? His tail, which was facing Ignis as Noctis leaned heavily into the wood door, was lashing out wildly. 

Ignis squared his shoulders, drawing in on himself and taking a deep breath, trying to avoid unnecessarily triggering his charge into an outburst. That wouldn’t help Prompto. “How long what?” Ignis replied evenly. “You are not making any sense. Hand over the elixir and we can talk about this when we know Prompto is safe,” Ignis tried, but he gasped when Noctis finally spun around, no longer facing the door. 

Noctis’s hair stood on end, from the tips of his ears to his now bottlebrush tail, everything puffing out, making him appear slightly larger, similar to the way Ignis himself had puffed up earlier that same day when he had learned about Prompto’s condition.  

But Prompto was safe. Why was Noctis acting like this now, of all times? Prompto was safe in Ignis’s bed, comfortable, and the only threat to him was… Noctis?

Ignis tried to keep his own feathers and wings from rising as his instincts tried to take over. He didn’t want to further threaten his prince. That would just provoke a flare up even worse, and possibly injure Prompto rather than help him. He needed to keep a level head when dealing with Noctis like this. It had been several months since his prince’s last outburst. He honestly thought this was over. 

Noctis, his prince, standing there, back arched, fur fluffed, ears tipped back, teeth predominantly displayed, nails unsheathed. It had never been this bad before. 

No. 

Noctis wasn’t a threat to Prompto, no matter how it seemed. This wasn’t right. He was missing something. But Ignis never missed anything! Well… except for Prompto. 

Ignis took a step back at the intense look of anger on his charge’s face. He was definitely missing something again. This didn’t make sense. Why was Noctis mad at him for taking care of his friend? 

The Prince’s gem pulsed in time with his emotions, nearly knocking Ignis off of his feet as he was hit with fear, worry, anger, betrayal, confusion. Each emotion flashing across his stormy grey gem like a shock of lightning in a thundercloud.

Ignis suddenly couldn’t breath. The air was thick, he was gasping, clawing at his throat as his wings went ridged behind him, reaching out and flapping desperately as his knees finally buckled beneath him. 

Noctis stalked forward, a static energy of his unrestrained power making feathers part beneath his feet. 

How… had so many of his feathers ended up on the floor? It wasn’t molting season, and… that was a lot of feathers. Ignis would like to think he would have noticed, but Prompto was hurt. He couldn’t think of anything but Prompto and his safety. 

Prompto wasn’t safe. 

“Ignis,” Noctis hissed dangerously, drawing near enough that he could bend his head and whisper into his advisor’s ear, “how long have you been doing this? To him? To yourself?”

“D-doing… what?” Ignis finally gasped out, pain lancing him with each word as he found himself litterally pinned in place by his charge. “Noctis, please, if you are hurting me, I would hate to know what you are doing to Prompto!”

Slowly, steadily, the tension in the room dropped as bit by bit, the same tension bled from Noctis’s body. Every breath became easier, and finally, that overwhelming gravity that kept Ignis nearly lanced to the ground was gone. 

The weightless feel made Ignis lightheaded for a moment, but he ignored it in favor of standing and pushing Noctis back, grabbing the potion from the prince’s lose grip, ignoring his shocked and slightly sick looking charge in favor of jumping on the bed and reassuring himself that whatever odd behaviors Noctis had just exhibited didn’t effect his patient. 

Prompto was still breathing steadily, thankfully enough, but he was sweating. Perhaps he had put on too many blankets? Maybe the wound was infected? It wasn’t uncommon for a Zóan bite to become infected. 

He peeled back the blankets, slowly applying the potion directly to the bite, frowning at the way it didn’t seem to fully heal the wound, but it at least scabbed over. 

That would have to do for now. 

“What the Bloody Hell was that Noctis! You could have hurt Prompto!”

He stayed where he was next to the blond, looking over the back of his wings from where they were stretched protectively over the unconscious form, only to see the way the prince was now kneeling on the ground, in a pile of Ignis’s feathers, fingering them despondently. 

Ignis furrowed his brow at them again. How had that many feathers fallen? He flexed his wings, paling at how very thin his once full wings suddenly were. 

He hadn’t pulled out that many feathers had he? He ran his hands over his now strangely dull colored feathers. The ones he had left had definitely lost their shine. Surely it was just the lighting? His feathers hadn’t faded, right? 

More feathers fell at the gentle brush of his finger, layering themselves morbidly over Prompto’s still slumbering form. 

“W-what’s happening?” Ignis gasped, frantically grabbing his wing, desperately trying to stop this- whatever ‘this’ was. Maybe even jam a few back into place. 

“Why did you have to do this?” Noctis’s voice cracked with such raw emotion that Ignis was very glad that his prince had regained control of himself. “You… you had to take him from me, didn’t you?”

Ignis quickly slipped off the bed, almost crying at the sight of more feathers falling to the floor. “Noctis?! What’s happening? M-my feathers?!?” He nearly slipped on the large pins as he crossed to his bookcase, grabbing a book on avian culture he had hidden there. 

Surely… there was something there? He wasn’t losing his blessing, was he? That didn’t happen, did it? Were his wings falling off? 

“Your stress molting, Ignis. That’s what it’s called.”

Ignis frowned, looking through the index with that information, hoping he would be able to make sense of it. 

“Ignis! You are stress molting! Don’t you understand what that means?!?!” 

Noctis’s anger lanced across Ignis’s back like a lash, making the winged man drop the book and shriek. Just because that rage was projected didn’t make it any less painful. 

What had gotten into Noctis lately? He hadn’t been this bad with his emotions for a while. Not since…

Not since Prompto…

“Sh- crap! Igs! Iggy! I’m… I’m so sorry!”

Noctis scrambled to Ignis’s aid, who frightenedly pulled away from the touch, making the prince pull back and stare down at his own hands in fear, tears brimming. 

“I-I don’t know what’s happening, Iggy!” Noctis hissed. “I didn’t mean to! I can’t hold it in anymore!”

It was hard for Ignis to be sympathetic when his back was still smarting from Noctis’s last outburst. Even harder when his feathers continued to fall from his wings with each pained shiver that wracked his body. “I thought we were past this, Noct! What has been keeping these outbursts at bay for the last several months?” Ignis’s narrowed eyed glare cut toward Noctis, who was staring longingly at the lump on his bed. 

Oh…

Oh, Six, no…

“Stress molting is what happens when an Avian Zóa’s… mate is hurt, sick, dying or dead,” Noctis recited. “So, my question is, when did you start trying to mate my best friend?”

Ignis scoffed angrily, trying to pull himself together and defend. “He’s a blessless! Obviously that didn’t happen!”

“Oh my god! The bracelet!” Noctis wretched, grabbing at his hair, tail lashing wildly. “And the food! You have been courting him this whole time, haven’t you?!” Noctis accused, but at least he wasn’t projecting. At least he didn’t look angry at anyone but himself for not noticing. 

“I don’t know what you are talking about!” Ignis stressed, trying and failing to stand when he slipped on his own feathers. “Why are my feathers falling out!”

“Because Avian Zóa mate for life!” Noctis slowly raised his eyes to meet Ignis’s horrified ones as the information that he had read about months ago fully sunk into the out of his stomach. “Don’t you know anything about what you are!”

“Please, excuse me for my ignorance!” Ignis cried out, doing his best to hold his wings still. “I have been trying to make sure you were prepared for your life too much to sit around worrying about my own. But, please, since you seem so knowledgeable about the subject, enlighten me as to why my wings seem to be falling off!”

Noctis took several deep breaths, obviously trying to calm himself, palming the pulsing light on his forehead. “The only reason I know about this is from TV. Prompto loves foreign films as much as much as action movies. You probably should know that, since… you know.”

“Know what?” Ignis finally crowed, suddenly wishing he had the time and watched TV as much as Noctis did.  “What’s wrong with me?!”

“Avian Zóa mate for life, and if their mate gets sick, they molt. When they die… they follow soon after.” Noctis refused to look at Ignis, standing up and climbing up onto the bed to check on the blond teen instead. “So I guess we better make sure he lives, now even more. Huh? Can’t have my ‘trusted’ advisor dying on me too.” The way he spat the word trusted made Ignis sure he had screwed up majorly with his friend, dare he even call himself that. 

Ignis stood, feathers dusting the floor, wings going limp as his jaw went slack. No. No, that couldn’t be happening. Surely he would have heard about something like that before. Then again, the number of Avian Zóa he knew living in the Feline capital of the world was stuck at zero. His uncle, being a blessless, knew close to nothing about his culture due to how secretive his kind were about certain matters. Being in a feline dominated society in the crown city, it wasn’t exactly talked about at school. Even Mer and Canid were talked about more commonly due to the influx of refugees.

But, still! That was ridiculous! Surely his fate couldn’t be tied to Prompto in such a way that was so far out of his control. Surely Gladio, his friend, couldn’t have sentenced them both to death with his mindless action? 

Then again… maybe his need to protect Prompto was less about proving himself to his mate, and more about instinctual self preservation. That was the only way he could make sense of his sudden and irrational need to attack the Behemoth Zóa when he had learned what had happened. Because, if Prompto died, he might as well go down trying to kill what took his mate from him.

But, on the other hand, “That’s impossible! Ludicrous! Prompto is a human!”

Noctis’s head spun so fast that he could have sworn he heard it pop. The level of rage, anger, and jealousy leveled at him with single a look made Ignis wince back, expecting pain that never came. 

Odd. 

“Do you think I want to believe it either? Do you think I like the idea that you all but mated my best friend?!” Noctis raged, hands carding through the blond’s hair comfortingly. “Despite how much I hate you right now, I don’t want my best friend to die. So, don’t you dare pussy out on me! Help your fucking mate!”

“He’s not my mate!” 

“Really?” Noctis growled. “Do you really want to play oblivious?” Noctis threw his hands around the room, gesturing at everything. “You are fucking nesting, Ignis!!!”

Ignis’s eyes widened, looking around the room, then taking off his glasses to clean them before looking around again. “No. No, I was just stress cleaning. Th-that’s what this was. He’s a blessless!” Ignis wasn’t so out of control of his person that he let his instincts do this! He was not an animal! His wings did not define him!

Noctis narrowed his eyes, hand falling away from Prompto’s head. “What, is Prompto not good enough for you?”

Almost instantly, Ignis was hit with a wrenching pain. Like his heart was shattering in his ribcage. “N-no! That’s not what I mean! It’s just not possible, genetically- instinctually- it just doesn’t make any-!”

Noctis’s eyes darkened with his gem at that statement. “Then you won’t mind if I keep Prom to myself?”

Ignis spluttered, finally turning to face Noctis and look him in the eye, absolutely horrified to see the sincerity there. A threat. “Th-that’s ridiculous! I have no clue what you are implying!”

Noctis scowled, eyes darkening with his gem. “I was going to step aside, you know, since you are going all love-bird on him, but if I am mistaken, if you are so certain that I am mistaken, then there is no reason to do that, is there?”

“It’s not that I don’t enjoy his company!” Ignis quickly amended, chest still aching under Noctis’s powerful glare. “It’s just that- It makes no sense!”

“What makes no sense is that a pragmatic, emotionless, featherbrained animal like you might actually be able to form any kind of romantic bond! You don’t deserve him!”

“What and you do?” Ignis screamed back, hand clenching at his chest as he felt Noctis’s powers making angered words bubble from his lips. “You are such a selfish brat most of the times, it’s a wonder you could enjoy the company of anyone but yourself!”

“At least I’m not ashamed to admit I…” his powers drew back again, like the waves of a violent storm, leaving Ignis empty and adrift as Noctis finally forced out his true thoughts on the matter. The real reason this had caused such a meltdown. “I think I love him, Iggy.” Noctis’s ears dipped, hand slapping over his mouth and nails digging into his cheek. 

Ignis never thought he saw Noctis look so frightened or lost before. He also never thought Noctis would fall in love. Suddenly this heart wrenching pain made sense. The jealously hidden in anger, smothered with betrayal. The lashing out. 

Oh, goddess, what had Ignis’s instincts gotten him into this time? 

Ignis kept his hands in front of him, slowly approaching the bed as Noctis threw himself on top of his friend, curling up like a lost kitten. 

“Oh, Six, Iggy! I think I love him!” His small form was wracked with sobs as he clawed his fingers into the thick layer of blankets above Prompto’s chest. “He can’t die like mom did! I just found him! I want to see him happy! I want to touch him one day and be happy too!”

Ignis had no clue what Noctis was blathering on about, but he also didn’t know if his heart was wrenching from the sight of his charge, or from the residual emotions bleeding from him. “Shh-shh-shh.” Ignis hesitantly placed a hand on his prince’s back, rubbing it soothingly as he sobbed. “He isn’t going to die,” Ignis promised, wing coming up to curl around his charge while the other found purchase over Prompto’s forehead, dusting the sweat away without his permission. 

He scowled at the wing, but ignored in in favor of soothing Noctis. Thankfully Noctis ignored it too. 

After a few minutes the sobbing stopped and Noctis’s breath evened out. He sighed in relief, slowly trying to edge off the bed when Noctis’s arm shot out and snagged his sleeve, glowing eyes staring directly into his soul in a way an empath only could. 

“How long, Iggy?”

“Hmm?” Ignis gently rubbed the back of Noctis’s hand, trying to sooth him back to sleep. 

“How long have you been courting Prom?”

Ignis struggled with his conscience for a moment, before realizing that it was futile. 

“From the moment I met him.” Ignis admitted, shamed that he had tried to hide it for this long. Maybe if he just admitted to it like Noctis obviously did he would have been around to protect Prompto. Maybe if he didn’t hide from him he would still be conscious. “But, I swear, I didn’t realize it at first. I… I still don’t quite believe it. It doesn’t make sense.”

Noctis snorted into Prompto’s chest before dragging Ignis back into the bed by his sleeve. “He thought you hated him at first, you know. Probably would continue to if not for the damn bracelet.”

“I wish I did,” Ignis admitted, finally giving up and letting Noctis corral him back to bed. “My instincts took over. I didn’t understand what was happening till it was too late, and I felt so wretched for letting my animal take control. It felt like I was taking advantage of Prompto’s kindness and generosity, some how. Like he wouldn’t want to see me if he knew why I was being nice to him. So I stopped.”

Noctis snorted. “You really don’t watch TV, do you. You can’t just stop something like that. Not unless it’s mutual, which means that, to some degree, Prom must like you back.”

“I always thought television was mindless drivel, but obviously you learned more through it than I ever could without.” Ignis pressed his lips to Noctis’s hairline, pulling his wings up to drape them over Noctis and his… his Prompto. “You are right, though. I don’t deserve Prompto. You make him happy.”

Noctis’s brow wrinkled, hand shooting out to latch onto Prompto’s own, pushing the remote out of the way when his gem flashed dangerously. “No I don’t,” He croaked, miserably. “I wish I could, but nothing I do seems to break through. I just want him to be happy. Maybe he can be happy with you?” Noctis stared up at Ignis, hopeful. 

He responded with a snort. “I doubt I, a… what were your words? A ‘pragmatic, emotionless, featherbrained animal,’ would be able to make someone like Prompto happy.”

Noctis frowned. “Sorry.”

Ignis shrugged, “I understand the sentiment. I was just as shocked when I figured it out as well.”

There was a moment of silence as Noctis shifted his weight on top of the human. “Sorry I lashed out at you with my powers, too. That was pretty uncool.”

Ignis cringed. The center of his back still ached, and his chest still felt strangely hollow. “I won’t lie and tell you that it wasn’t painful.”

“Prompto grounds me,” Noctis finally admitted, eyed drifting close. “He drowns everyone else out when I’m touching him. He helps me get through the day without being scared and worrying I might screw up and hurt somebody I love. Like just did to you, and like I did when Gladio got his….” Noctis shuddered at the memory, hand coming up to trace an invisible line over his eye that matched Gladio’s real one. “I don’t know what I would to if anyone took Prom from me.” Noctis looked directly into Ignis’s eyes as he settled on his human’s chest. “Please, promise me you won’t take him from me?”

“I won’t. I promise.” Ignis rubbed Noctis’s back, watching as his charge yawned and stretched in a way very much reminiscent of the feline traits he was blessed with. 

“Maybe, since I can’t make him happy, we can both make him happy. Together,” Noctis muttered deliriously as he finally drifted off to sleep. 

Ignis smiled at his sleeping prince before giving in and letting his body go lax as well, curled against Prompto’s side, arm and wing slung over Noctis protectively as he slept. 

What a sweet sentiment.