#sauronix

Hello, Kami <3   I’m combining your prompt with one from the lovely @sauronix, “After alternate ending, Gladio marries a woman to carry on the Amicitia line.”  I suspect you did not expect the angst came up with - but I hope you both enjoy it! <3

Ignis studied his reflection in the mirror solemnly, though it really wasn’t necessary. His suit was as immaculate as his clothing always was and not a hair was out of place. The scars marring his fine-boned features only added to his beauty, enhancing the sharp planes and brilliant eyes.

Today was Gladio’s wedding day.

Enjoy reading, fellas. And I hope you like this, Nix. (Is that how I should call you?)

--

Dark Waters

Ignis woke up from a very unsettling dream of Crystals and prophecies, straight into a living, breathing nightmare. All of his senses kicked into high gear the moment he regained consciousness, his body seemingly determined to compensate for his lost vision with sheer intensity of… all other things.

He could feel the individual threads of the bed sheet and the blanket, both of which were unbearably soft against his skin. The tang of seawater, mixed with wood and metal and blood, insistently pushed its way up his nostrils. The scent made his already throbbing head pulse with even more uncomfortable pain. Even the light breeze floating in through the open windows sounded unnaturally loud to him, the whisper of the fluttering curtains grating in his ears.

And then there was that tingle of magic flowing in his veins, the remnants of the borrowed power from the Crystal. The feeling has yet to fade, a steady buzz under his skin that makes him want to scratch and claw at it until he was raw and bleeding. He wanted it out of his system; it wasn’t as if his blindness weren’t enough of a reminder of his failure and his foolishness.

Ignis knew it now, how foolish it was to think that his devotion would mean his worthiness. He knew Noct was born and destined for greatness, and Ignis would have done anything to help him fulfill his preordained fate as the Chosen King. But never would he have guessed the cost.

16. If you only could write one pairing for the rest of your life, which pairing would it be?

I’m sure this answer will surprise you, but: Gladnis, Gladnis, Gladnis.

Confession time: I’m a pretty shippy person. I love romance, I love pairing people together, I have been known to consume media based on the romances involved, I have a lot of OTPs through different books/TVs/movies/games, but all of it pales in comparison to how much I love Gladnis.

The manifesto on the ship has already been written and expresses it far better than I could (*wink*), but I just love these two on a deep, personal, emotional level. They’re clearly meant for one another and I love exploring their dynamic in canon, in AUs, in pretty much every situation I can think of. I wouldn’t be surprised if I continue thinking about/writing about this pairing for a very long time to come.

21. How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?

I touched on this in another answer, but if I let myself have my own way, I’d never post anything because it would be stuck in revision forever.

As it stands, for most stuff I put on AO3, I finish the rough draft and look over it once for changes/typos/errors/style. I send it to beloved @xylianna/beta-san/friend-pai, who works her magic. Once I have her suggestions back, I look over it one more time and then post.  If I’m really worried about it or not happy with it, I’ll sit on it overnight to look at it with fresh eyes.

29. If you could write the sequel (or prequel) to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose?

I’ve been thinking on this for the better part of an hour, and honestly… I’m struggling to come up with an answer. I’ve read a lot of amazing writing/fics, but a) most of them feel complete to me already and b) I’d be worried about doing the stories/style justice.

If someone asked me about writing a prequel/sequel to something they wrote, I’d definitely consider it, but I can’t think of anything at the moment.

Thanks for asking, Nix. <3

Even if it WAS your favorite just because it was written for you - that’s okay ;)

Prompt 8 was: Forget it. You fucking suck.  (with a request for Gladnis, and that is one request I will never deny!)

Hope you enjoy this, Nix. :)

“Forget it. You fucking suck.”

Gladio’s jaw dropped in shock at hearing such blunt words cascade from his lover’s mouth, wrapped in scorn and hurled with the same precision with which he slung his daggers. Gladio didn’t have much of a chance to react to those harsh statements, however, since Ignis immediately turned and stormed out of their apartment, slamming the door behind him with enough force it rattled the pictures in their frames.

He knew he should give Ignis time to calm down. It wasn’t often his boyfriend lost his temper, but every man had his breaking point, and apparently Gladio had found Iggy’s. All he’d wanted was to do something nice for his partner, and his efforts had backfired most spectacularly. Fan-fucking-tastic.

With a guilty look around the kitchen he had completely destroyed in his mission to give Ignis a break from cooking, he sighed. Time to get to work.

Two hours later, the room was restored to the immaculate standards of Ignis “If you can’t take the heat, stay bloody well out of my kitchen” Scientia, and Gladio was fucking wiped.

He swore a solemn vow to any of the Six that might be listening that he’d never, ever interfere in Ignis’s sacred space again. Not without explicit permission and detailed directions. Fuck.

Gladio pulled out his phone and frowned. He didn’t have any messages from Ignis, but he had about two dozen from Noct. As he began to scroll through them he growled in frustration, breaking up the silence of the apartment. Deciding it would be easier to just call than attempt to type so much on his gods-damned phone (seriously, who thought it was a good idea to make those letters so small?), Gladio hit the appropriate icon and listened impatiently as it rang.

“Gladio, what the hell?”

“Wow, guess Iggy needs to work with you on proper phone etiquette, Prince Charmless,” Gladio snarked.

“Seriously. Specs is here right now and he’s pissed. What the fuck did you do?” Noctis’s voice was hushed, clearly attempting to make the call without being detected by the keen ears of his advisor. “He’s… angry cleaning? Is that a thing?”

Gladio couldn’t help but smile. That was his Iggy, all right. “For him it is, yeah.”

In terse sentences, he explained the situation. Fuck, there wasn’t much to explain.

And Gladio was not amused by Noct’s laughter.

“Shut up,” he muttered.

“You must have a death wish,” Noctis cackled gleefully. “I’d better ask Cor to start training me a new Shield.”

Gladio decided the best response to that was to disconnect the call. Tossing his phone on the couch, he began to pace around the room. Shiva’s tits, Iggy could be at Noct’s for hours with how slovenly the Prince’s housekeeping habits were. Gladio supposed his hopes for a nice, romantic night in were pretty much dashed.

He decided to try and make the most of the time and shoved the coffee table back against the couch, giving himself more space to work with. Sure, he’d already trained for hours at the Citadel earlier that day, but there was little else that would help calm his frazzled nerves while he awaited Ignis’s arrival. Gladio stripped off his shirt and tossed it on the couch, not noticing that it landed on his phone, completely obscuring the screen. He quickly fell into a simple calisthenics routine, focusing on getting each move exactly right, putting himself through the motions with painstaking precision.

Sure, it was basic fundamentals. But without a solid foundation, the rest went to shit quickly.

And no, that was not a fucking metaphor for his relationship with Ignis, dammit.

Gladio got so involved with his workout, pushing himself harder and harder in an effort silence his snarled thoughts, that he didn’t realize Ignis was home until he felt a gloved hand on his shoulder. He spun around reflexively, grabbing Ignis’s forearm and slamming him against his body, arm across Ignis’s neck in a choke hold.

“Shit, sorry,” Gladio said, inwardly cursing himself for his apparent inability to do anything right tonight, unwinding his arms with alacrity and stepping back a pace to give Ignis some space.

Ignis rubbed his throat, and cleared it before speaking. “It’s all right, Gladio,” his tone was rueful. “I should’ve known better.” Those manicured eyebrows drew down in confusion. “Didn’t you receive my texts?”

Fuck.

“My phone’s over there,” Gladio jerked a shoulder in the couch’s general direction. “Sorry babe.”

“Please, stop apologizing, Gladio,” Ignis drawled in that velvety tenor, lips quirking in a small smile. “If anything, it is I who should be apologizing to you.”

“Huh?”

“I didn’t mean to get so wroth with you,” Ignis explained, clasping one of Gladio’s hands in his and twining their fingers together. “It was a long, frustrating day, but you didn’t deserve to bear the brunt of my temper. Honestly, I appreciate the gesture. Truly I do.” His voice was earnest, loving.

Gladio smiled back, warmth glinting in those expressive amber eyes. “How about we both stop apologizing and figure out somethin’ for dinner? Unless you ate with Noct.”

Ignis held up a grocery bag Gladio hadn’t noticed until now. “I stopped on the way home. Set the table for me while I prepare it?”

The two worked in tandem, orbiting each other with the practiced ease of those who had spent countless hours sharing the same space.

Gladio decided his nose must be playing tricks on him. Surely Ignis wasn’t preparing what he suspected.

“Cup Noodles!” he bellowed with unrestrained glee. “You really are the perfect man.”

“Yes, well,” Ignis smirked. “I’m adding some decent vegetables and meat, in an effort to make it more palatable.” He adjusted his glasses, voice a bit pedantic as he continued, “I also stirred in some seasonings, and I’m boiling extra noodles in case the pre-packaged portions are too skimpy.”

“So… basically you’re making your own home made recipe, and putting it the cups?”

“Precisely.”

Gladio threw back his head and laughed. Gods, he loved this man.

Prompt sent to me by @sauronix: In WoR, Ignis pushes Gladio away because he thinks Gladio is only with him out of pity anymore

“I neither desire nor require your assistance, Gladiolus.”

Harsh words rasped out starkly in the faded light of mid-afternoon in Lestallum. Ignis stood with his chin lifted belligerently, hands fisted at his sides, his entire body radiating anger and frustration.

Gladio listened with his arms crossed defensively across his wide chest, his body language eloquent in its dismay and fatigue. He was so bone-weary exhausted, having this same argument day after day, month after month.

Year after year.

“Fine, Iggy.” Gladio didn’t bother to try and hold back the tears that trailed down his face. Ignis couldn’t see them anyway. “I’m done fightin’.”

Ignis scoffed in clear disbelief of that statement, but Gladio didn’t say anything else.

Four heartbeats. That’s all the time that passed between Gladio’s words, and the resounding click of the door closing behind him.

One skipped beat, then, as Ignis wondered if he’d ever see Gladio again.

This was better. Ignis suspected Gladio had only stayed with him out of feelings of obligation. While Ignis wasn’t able to go out and Hunt, to actively protect people, Gladio certainly could if he didn’t have a blind man to watch over.

Moreover, Ignis didn’t deserve Gladio, deserve love. Not after his brilliant failure four years ago in Altissia. His continued thwarted efforts at finding any way to bring Noctis back from that Crystalline jail.

He found his way to the sofa, sat, and ignored the burning in his eyes. Ignis’s ears strained for the sound of boots walking towards the apartment door, the rattle of the doorknob.

All he heard was his frenetic heartbeat, ragged breathing, and a loud silence.

Gladio was gone.

Ignis was alone.

Ignis rolled his eyes in the way of those long-suffering the fools around them. It was the middle of winter, for Astrals’ sake, and his boyfriend still insisted on going about in his tank top to show off that blasted tattoo as if it were high summer.

Gladio did his best to mask his shivers, to be sure, but the Shield was, at the end of the day, only human, and could only hide so much…especially from one who was trained to see the hidden, to glean what was obscured.

“Gladio,” Ignis shook his head ruefully. “Here, I have a spare,” he offered a thick-woven green cardigan to the larger man, and thought he was doing quite well indeed to only permit the barest hint of a condescending smirk to cant his lips.

“Fuck, Iggy,” Gladio moaned ruefully. “This ain’t gonna fit.” Despite his protestations, Gladiolus attempted to force Ignis’s sweater over his impressive biceps, making it about halfway before he got stuck. “Uh… a little help here?”