Welcome to my first prompt fill for this year's Whumptober! As of right now, I have the first 10 days plus two of the later days pre-written. I'm aiming for completionist, but we'll see how that goes. I'll upload everything as chapters of this fic so if you're interested in seeing all of it, consider following it! (yes, I took the title from a Linkin Park song because *gestures* yknow)
All fics that exist at the moment are between 650 and 1600 words long and I intend to keep them at around this length. Prompt fills will be exclusively for FFXV (though they aren't interconnected story-wise) and I try to focus on each of the Chocobros somewhat equally, though I apologize in advance if more fics end up focusing on Ignis than on someone else - he's my fave and unfortunately for him, that means I like hurting him the most.
First up is Gladio, and those were the prompts I picked from (bold is the one I chose):
No. 1: "But now this room is spinning while I'm trying just to fill in all the gaps."
Safety Net | Swooning | "How many fingers am I holding up?"
Warnings: Descriptions of a heavily bleeding wound
Every King has a Shield. Such is the tradition, born with the very first King of Lucis ago and carried on for centuries.
Gladio was taught from a very young age what it means to be Shield to the King. He doesn't remember a time when he hasn't been fully aware of his duties, of his purpose.
It's a heavy burden to bear, but it's one he bears with pride. Not everyone understands it - most people don't. If Gladio weren't born into the role, into the family, then maybe he wouldn't understand it either, but as it is, he cannot regard it as anything else than an honour.
That, of course, is not what he thinks about when he takes the hit for Noct. He doesn't consider what he is to Noct, doesn't consider that this is his duty, doesn't resent Noct or the Lucis Caelum line or the Amicitia name. No, he doesn't think at all, years and years of training and pure instinct propelling him straight into the path of the Aramusha's blade, mere moments away from piercing through Noct's chest.
"Gladio!" Noct yells, but he sounds far away all of a sudden, like Gladio is hearing him through a fog.
For a moment, all he can do is stare at the shining blade sticking through his abdomen. He blinks once, twice, trying to understand what's happening. Then, the blade moves, and Gladio watches in morbid fascination as it is pulled free from his flesh, dripping with blood - his blood.
That, apparently, is all his brain needed to catch up with reality, and suddenly it hurts, gods, why does it hurt so much?
He gasps like he's drowning, collapsing to his knees. His hands scramble uselessly across his torso, trying and failing to stop the blood from spilling out, but he can already feel himself fade.
"Gladio!" he hears again, and he shakes his head, trying to get rid of the dark spots that litter his vision. Noct. Noct is calling for him, still needs him, the Aramusha's still standing and Gladio can't die yet.
The crystalline sound of Noct warping startles him as it appears right next to him without warning, and then there are warm hands on his back, steadying him.
"Gladio, hey, stay with me, yeah?" Noct babbles, frantic, hand trembling as it comes up to rip away what remains of Gladio's shirt.
"N-noct-" Gladio chokes out, sounding like a drowning man. Maybe that's not even such a bad comparison - breathing is unnervingly difficult and everything around him is hazy and slow, as if he were underwater.
Noct pushes a potion into his hand and helps him crush it, but it barely does anything. Gladio's still bleeding, he can feel the blood spurting out of the wound, but it's marginally easier to breathe.
Still, he struggles to sit up, ignoring Noct's protests. He can't just lie here uselessly, he has to get up, keep fighting-
"Gladio, stay still!" Noct snaps, and if Gladio weren't so out of it, he would've heard the concern in his voice, but as it is, it barely registers.
What does register, suddenly, is Prompto who positions himself between them and the Aramusha. The twitchy, anxious kid people usually clock him as is nowhere to be seen. Instead, he stands like a seasoned Crownsguard, hands steady as he puts a round of bullets into the Aramusha's rotting body.
It shrieks, enraged, and it's the last thing Gladio hears before he passes out.
When he comes to, they're still in the mine and Noct is still frantically talking to him, and he can still hear the Aramusha's blade slicing through the air, so he can't have been out for more than a few moments.
His body burns with the aftereffects of a phoenix down, and oh. He didn't realise he was quite this bad off.
He sits up, this time with Noct's permission and support. The two of them are still being shielded by Prompto standing over them, keeping the Aramusha away from them with well-placed shots.
"Noct, help me up, I need to-" Gladio starts, but before he can finish his sentence, Ignis appears behind the Aramusha out of nowhere, plunging his daggers into its back with deadly accuracy. He pulls them free, dances out of the way when the daemon whirls around to retaliate, and slices one dagger across its neck.
That's enough to finish it off. It gurgles and melts into the ground with a hiss, and then the only proof that remains of its existence is a puddle of black sludge on the ground.
Noct says something to him, but Gladio is fixated on Prompto and Ignis, breathless and unkempt from the fight as they hurry over to them.
That's right, he thinks, he isn't alone. He bears the burden of being Noct's Shield, yes, but he's far from Noct's only protector. They're there too - they're his safety net, a failsafe, and after today, he swears he won't let himself forget.
It's a heavy burden to bear, being the King's Shield, but at least it isn't one he bears alone.
And there we go! I also post all my stuff to Tumblr, so if you feel like giving my fic post a reblog, that is of course allowed and much appreciated - I can be found as thisfairytalegonebad
Thank you for reading, and I'm hoping to see you tomorrow!