Your time warp love triangle headcanons for KH were great! Could we maybe get something similar for Chocobros? Like a time warp where their main game selves and their older selves after the 10 year gap end up in the same universe, and they are both falling for the same person. If you have time or are interested it would be cool to see for Ardyn or Ravus too, but no pressure. Your stuff is great!!!

Ardyn and Ravus are two of my favorites I’ll always have time for those jerks lol. For the Bros, I’ll do Main game and after the game ends and the world is saved; Ravus gets slightly Pre-Game and Post-Worldsaving; for Ardyn, I’ll do main game and his past self from before everything went to hell.

Noctis

Both of them are really surprised, but like... Very lowkey about it

Older!Noctis is probably more surprised than Main!Noctis. If only because, well, Older!Noctis knows that this guy is him from the past - Main!Noctis can at least try to convince himself it’s just a dude who looks really similar, or something

Older!Noctis explains himself to Main!Noctis though. There’s... Some awkward silence afterwards, because how do you react to meeting your future/past self??

Problem with wooing you here is... Neither Noctis is really all that skilled at it. He hasn’t really been all that interested in dating so far, so has pretty much no experience whatsoever

He knows the theory, sure, and he’s usually somewhat okay at human interaction in general... But dating?

Main!Noctis actually tries asking Older!Noctis for advice but. Older!Noctis really does not know any more than Main!Noctis does.

The first few dates are kinda... Awkward simply because of that. They’re pretty standard in a way; restaurant, maybe the cinema, etc. (Older!Noctis is more likely to pick a restaurant as the go-to spot, Main!Noctis more likely to take the cinema)

Until they relax a bit more about the whole thing, at least. The dates are still nice, since Noctis is a nice person, they just felt kinda stiff. But once they relax a little and basically throw out the script? Much nicer

Main!Noctis, for example, would totally invite you to just literally take a nap together. Or play games together. Stuff like that. Maybe even take you fishing.

Older!Noctis is more likely to suggest going for a walk or, again, take you fishing (He’s been in the dark for a while, so he kinda wants to go see the world with the sun up again)

When you pick one of them, the other one will accept it and wish you good luck, but probably leave. He might text occasionally, though

Ignis

Well. Seeing himself with those scars is… Unsettling.

Main!Ignis is very tempted to ask, but on the other hand not quite sure whether he wants to know.

He does decide to ask in the end; maybe knowing can help him avoid it? And Older!Ignis is perfectly willing to answer. Again, maybe if he knows early enough, some things can be changed.

Next question is what they should do about the fact that they’ve both fallen for you

They come to the conclusion that it should be your decision, obviously, and that they’re not really into the idea of really competing against each other

So instead, they both kinda just... Hang out with you. They’re both a bit more thoughful and/or romantic than they’d be with their friends (They might bring you flowers from time to time, for example), but other than that, don’t really ask you out on a date

(Pro of this situation: You get tons of amazing food because you’re hanging out with two great cooks!)

After a while, they confess to you that they’ve both fallen for you, though they assure you you don’t need to make a decision in any way now

By the time you do decide, you’re such a close-knit group anyway that not much changes. The Ignis you didn’t pick just takes it in stride, though he might try to get some distance for a while.

But you still hang out all together, and both Ignises still get along really well

Prompto

????????

First of all, super confused to be seeing… Himself. Crushing on the same person. What???

Y’all know that Spiderman meme? That’s exactly what they look like the first time they spot each other

They’re both sad they have competition in general (Despite being a total cutie, neither Prompto is all too experienced when it comes to wooing anyone), but at least the competition is only, well, himself.

It’s weird, sure, but Prom feels like he’s got much better chances against himself than he would against, say, Gladio

Both would have their go-to solution be asking Noctis (or one of the other Chocobros) to be a wingman... But how exactly are they supposed to decide who to help?? They’re technically both Prompto, right?

(They’d help the one whose time they’re in - If Older!Prom ended up in the Main time, we’d have Main!Bros helping Main!Prompto. If Main!Prompto got thrown into the future, the Older!Bros would help Older!Prom)

They don’t want to make their friends choose like this. Which means they’re on their own.

They won’t explain stuff unless you ask.

“Why does he look so similar to you?” - “Would you believe if I told you he’s me from the past/future?”

Their way of wooing you is pretty similar (Up to the point that the first idea pf both for asking you out is suggesting a nice photo shoot!). Sure, Older!Prompto is a bit more mature while Main!Prompto is a bit more excitable, but at their core, they’re obviously still the same person.

Regardless of who you pick, the other is willing to hang around as a friend, if you want to. Sure, it hurts to see you in a relationship, but at least you’re happy (and it’s technically still a relationship with him, which is... Nice, he guesses?)

Gladio

Huh, so he got some new scars, but other than that, he didn’t change that much

Both Gladios are somewhat competitive, so they decide they’ll just… Both try to impress you, and then let you choose

For fairness’s sake, Main!Gladio sticks to his shirtless look while Older!Gladio wears his Kingsglaive outfit, so you can easily distinguish them

And, well… Then they come up with cool stuff to impress you with.

Sometimes it’s literal competitions against each other, like armwrestling, or just generally showing off their skills and strength

But other times, they try going a more romantic route, like bringing you flowers etc

Both Gladios really enjoy dragging the other one when they’re with you, but in a rather friendly teasing way

“That kid, huh? Thinks he’s so hot with his shirtless look…”

“Well, he still looks pretty nice, I guess… For a grandpa”

At times, you might wonder if they actually want you to choose, since they are kinda having fun with their competition

They’ll both accept your choice, regardless of whom you end up choosing; the other one may stick around, or may not, but either way it’s no big deal

Ravus

Past!Ravus is somewhat disturbed by his lack of arm

That’s. That’s a pretty big change.

Other than that, while he’s surprised, he doesn’t really show it. The two of them do stare at each other for a while though.

When it comes to wooing you, they decide to just treat each other like a stranger. They do talk occasionally - Especially since Past!Ravus is really really curious what happened to his arm (Though Future!Ravus only gives cryptic answers) - But never about you

(The whole situation is just... Too weird otherwise)

So it’s not a direct competition; they don’t try to one-up the other one, for example. It’s just... Two very very similar guys both asking you out on dates.

Once you choose one, the other one will take a step back, but won’t leave completely; he may text you occasionally, and you might meet up from time to time, but he’s basically just an acquaintance

Ardyn

Well, at first, Past!Ardyn is mostly very curious - This is his future self, right? So he’s curious to hear what Present!Ardyn has to tell him

Until they get too close to each other

Now, Past!Ardyn is no stranger to the Starscourge; he’s marked by it, too. But that’s no comparison to Present!Ardyn.

Past!Ardyn actually flinches back at first. He doesn’t want to - in a way, Present!Ardyn seems just like another lost soul to be saved, like the other people he’s healed before - but there’s just so much dark energy emanating from him

Present!Ardyn chuckles and pretends to find Past!Ardyn’s reaction amusing. In truth, it hurts, deeply. It’s a reminder how deep he’s fallen, how deep the Gods let him fall, made him fall

Before that, Past!Ardyn tbh wasn’t sure how they should solve the whole thing. He’s never been in competition with, well, himself. And now he’s… Even less sure

See, on one hand, Present!Ardyn seems kinda threatening - That’d mean Past!Ardyn should try to woo you first. But on the other hand, Past!Ardyn has no idea how or why he ended up like this. What if you’re in even more danger with him, considering Present!Ardyn at least seems able to control his Starscourge? Or maybe they both should leave you alone in this case?

Present!Ardyn gladly uses the time Past!Ardyn spends doubting himself to chat you up.

That at least removes the last option. And Past!Ardyn does, in the end, decide to try and woo you himself. It’s still possible for him to avoid whatever fate had befallen Present!Ardyn, and Past!Ardyn doesn’t quite trust his future self

Despite being the same person (Ignoring that Present!Ardyn is kinda 1000 demons in a trenchcoat but shh xD) their ways of approaching you are very different

Present!Ardyn is very, very charming. There’s always a little hint of danger underneath, sure, but it’s hard to notice if you aren’t paying very close attention - And even then, who’s to say that feeling is right? He behaves like the perfect gentleman, after all.

Past!Ardyn knows what he’s doing, too, but he does seem a bit rough around the edges at times. Not necessarily in a bad way, either; it makes the whole thing feel very genuine.

It’d be rare to see them both together; they both have their reasons for staying away from the other one as good as they can

Past!Ardyn is, truth be told, somewhat scared of Present!Ardyn. Not much, but seeing himself like this is just unsettling

Meanwhile, Present!Ardyn hates being reminded that he wasn’t always like this. That there was a time when he still had genuine smiles, when all he wanted to do was help people, when he wasn’t more demon than man… But that time is long gone

Past!Ardyn might actually try to warn you about Presen!Ardyn. Not with the full details (yet), but a general warning that he isn’t quite who he appears to be

If you choose Past!Ardyn, Present!Ardyn will surprise probably everyone - mostly himself - and just leave you two alone. He doesn’t quite get why, but… As much as he’d love to be the one who’s with you, he also doesn’t want to hurt you. So he accepts your decision and leaves.

If you choose Present!Ardyn, Past!Ardyn will probably still hang around as a friend.

In either case (in the first one especially if you have grown fond of Present!Ardyn), given some time, Past!Ardyn will probably try to find a way to help Present!Ardyn with his, um, little Starscourge problem. After all, that’s what healers do

(It’s uncanny as heck for them to work together, though, and neither particularly enjoys the other’s company, but they can deal with it if there’s a good enough reason)

the world in my arms - I (Ignis and Prompto)

Title: the world in my arms

Pairing: Prompto’s and Ignis’ friendship (soft mention of Gladnis)

Rating: T

Summary: Ignis gives out cuddles and Prompto wants some for himself

--

Prompto always knew that his most precious friend who was also the Crown Prince, loved to take naps. Sometimes he’d even cover for him at school for it. There were too many occasions when His Highness just decided to have a snooze and leaving Prompto to deal with it. But that was school. Now, that they were on the open road he had two other people to deal with them.

There was Gladio, who apparently was a personal trainer and appointed bodyguard of the prince. Now he didn’t deal. Whenever Noct slept in or at inconvenient times he would go and rough him up as much as he could.

Ignis, Noct’s personal advisor was more gentle, but if anyone kept the record for waking Noct up it was him. Although, as Prompto discovered he also was good at this other thing.

One night, Prompto once again woke to a strange noise. They were still new in all this on the road business, so Prompto woke to every little thing. This night was no different. He turned on his other side just to face Ignis and Noctis lying there. Or more like Noctis pressed up against the man, who cradled his head and slowly, gently pet his hair. Prompto couldn’t help but stare. They looked like this wasn’t the first time they did it. Somehow the whole scene was so serene and calming that Prompto turned on his other side to stare at an eagle instead until he falls asleep again.

Not long after that, a few days later, when they could score a hotel it happened again.

Prompto was fresh out of the shower, because that night he won rock paper scissors.

“Alright losers, it’s your turn,” he grinned, with his towel still around his neck.

“Right, that's my cue,” Gladio stood from his bed, stretching his back. “Hope you didn't leave too big of a mess there,” he teased as he got his towel and walked to the bathroom. Prompto just stuck a tongue out at him as he threw himself on the bed Gladio was sitting. He laid back staring at ceiling for a few blissful moments. A hot shower after a long day was the best after all. He then turned his head to say something to Noct on the other bed, but all his words got stuck in his throat.

Noct was peacefully asleep in Ignis’ arms. Ignis was leaning his back against the headrest of the bed, with the Prince laying his head against his chest. He had his arms around the boy, one hand coming up to gently play with Noct’s dark hair.

Prompto watched as Ignis tilts his head to look into the sleeping face of the boy in his arms, smiling softly. Somehow the scene once again stroke him in a strange, painful way.

“He’s out cold, huh,” he muttered suddenly,  without giving permission to his mouth. He regretted it immediately, because he didn't want to disturb that peaceful scene.

“He’s had a long day,” Ignis answered without missing a beat. Without making Prompto feel that he interrupted anything. He figured that was Ignis, always knowing how to talk to someone even if he had an armful of royalty on him. Prompto sometimes wished he shared that talent with him. “You should get sleeping too, we’ll commence to a few heavy hunts tomorrow,” Ignis added then looking up for just a moment.

Prompto grinned at him and saluted.

“Roger that, I won’t be the one who’s gonna slow you down.”

After that somehow he grow used to see Ignis and Noctis cuddle. And every time Prompto swore to ask Noctis about it. Though he never knew how to bring up the topic, because ‘hey so, what’s up cuddle boy?’ sounded pretty awful. However, to his luck, he had an opening not long into their journey.

He was appointed to do some grocery run that day while they were staying in Lestallum. Which he didn’t mind, because he wanted to take some pictures of the city too. But as Prompto was walking out of the entrance door, he heard someone call for him.

“Hey, dude, wait! I’m coming with you!” Noctis called from the stairs, running through the halls to reach him. Prompto looked over this shoulder, then grinned as he saw Noctis hurry toward him.

“What’s up, I thought you’re snoozing already,” he teased, reaching out to fistbump his friend’s shoulder.

“Yeah I was, but… uuh, I had to leave,” Noctis grimaced, rubbing the back of his head. “Gladio wanted his cuddle time,” he added as he fell in pace with Prompto.

“He- what?! Wha- wha wha what cuddle, what?” Prompto blinked.

“With Specs,” Noctis shrugged. “They like to do it in private,” he added. Prompto felt a bit of rush in his chest, because… this meant Gladio was also getting cuddles from Ignis!? So was it… a royal thing… or?

“Uh-huh, so…” he started. “So Iggy um, so he does that to everyone?”

“Does what? Cuddling?” Noctis asked, frowning at Prompto a little. The blonde bit in his lip and nodded, waiting too eagerly for the answers. “He does it to me and Gladio too.”

“Wow, didn’t know Gladio is a snuggly guy, who knew,” Prompto mused out loud.

“If you ask I think he’ll hold you too,” Noctis said suddenly and it made Prompto almost trip over his own feet.

“Wh… haha, I don’t think I can just go to Iggy and ask that, like, no,” he laughed awkwardly, because that was exactly what he was thinking. Noctis just shrugged, pocketing his hand in his shorts, yawning a little. “Um-!” Prompto started after a few minutes of walking. “Does it feel good?”

“Huh?” Noctis raised an eyebrow at him. “I guess. Yeah, yeah it does…” he muttered, his gaze dropping low as he seemed to be thinking. “It’s.. good,” he concludes after a while. “You should ask him.”

Prompto pursed his lips, because how can he ask something like that? Won’t that sound weird to Ignis? Or weird in general? It must sound weird…

So Prompto let the topic cool for a while, occasionally catching Ignis holding Noctis during the night, or evenings. And wishing he had enough courage to ask Ignis for one too. Prompto had some idea how it must have felt: good. Like, warm and safe. Yes, probably. He couldn’t exactly explain it, but he wanted to once try it. He remembered sometimes his parents holding him, and tried to remember how that felt, but somehow it was such a distant memory he couldn’t recall the details of it.

“You seem a bit out of it, is everything alright?” Ignis asked one day when Prompto was musing about the cuddles again. He volunteered to help Ignis clean up the plates that night, while the other two lazed off. Prompto figured it will be a good distraction. But apparently he was getting too distracted.

“Ah, yeah, it’s nothing…” Prompto muttered, rinsing the plate in the bucket for the third time. Damn. “Um, well actually…” he started, groaning and looking around if Gladio and Noctis could hear them.

“I’m listening,” Ignis prompted patiently, drying off some utensils before placing them in their box.

“So! You know, you see the thing, the thing you do, with your arms,” Prompto started. That earned a bit of confused expression from the other as he looked over him.

“My arms?” he asked.

“Yes the… thing where you hold things, like, groceries or… people,” Prompto stuttered, feeling his face heat up from just how utterly idiotic he must sound. “I- I was wondering if you could hold me sometimes like you do with Noctis!” As he blurted it out he even bowed a little, as if he was stating a formal request to one of the royal officials.

Prompto felt like a fool when he heard Ignis’ amused huff. He wanted to move and apologize for being an idiot, but then he felt a hand in his hair.

“Of course, you can ask me anytime,” the man smiled, petting Prompto’s hair. “Physical contact is important for health after all.”

“Eh?” Prompto blinked. So it was good for the body? Cuddling? Hell yes, so he had an excuse now too. Wonderful “I mean- I mean thank you!” he grinned, bowing again.

After that, Pompto couldn’t stop thinking about the soft petting of his hair, and the next time he could ask Ignis for cuddles. But how does one do that? Though Prompto decided he will definitely ask next time!

But then he found Noctis in Ignis’ arms again when they were stopped by that gas station. And then the next time in the hotel Noctis made them walk out without Ignis and Gladio, because they were the ones cuddling. So while Prompto knew that Ignis would be all fine with him asking, he had no opportunity to. But that was fine. He knew his time will come. Sometime. One day.

Or… sometime.

That night Prompto had trouble sleeping, even if they were in a hotel again. It was a tiring day, all of them were a mess when they finally got to their room. It was already pretty late when they could settle down. Rock paper scissors also put Prompto first in the shower line and Ignis last. So by the time Ignis got his chance to clean up Gladio and Noct were snoring away in one bed. Prompto watched them in the dark and listened to the shower running in the bathroom. He wasn’t exactly jealous per se, he was just musing how different he was from the rest of these people… Then the bathroom door opened and Prompto closed his eyes so Ignis won't know he was awake. He heard the man walk around the bed and felt as he sat down.

“Prompto?” he heard Ignis’ voice then, quiet and soft. Asking. Prompto bit in his lips. It was already late, they needed sleep and he didn’t want to trouble Iggy. So he pretended he was already asleep. “Prompto, come here,” Ignis said then, laying a hand on Prompto’s shoulder. The boy twitched, opening his eyes. Then he looked over his shoulder at the man sitting next to him. “You don’t want to?” Ignis asked then.

Prompto sighed, because he really wanted to. So he let Ignis pull him to him, arrange him between his legs as Prompto laid his head on his shoulder. Ignis’ arms came around him, pulling him to his huge body. Ignis didn’t look like that, because he was so lean and well proportioned, but he was huge. He had muscles. He had… shoulders… But the more Prompto felt that warmth around himself, the more his thoughts got jumbled. One arm of Ignis was draping over his back holding him, the other one was sneaking around his shoulder cradling his head. Those long fingers were sliding into his hair, making him shiver for some reason. It was so warm, almost hot. Almost uncomfortably so. Like this, he could hear Ignis’ heartbeat, beating away in a steady, safe rhythm. So alive and so… brave. Prompto couldn’t explain why that word came to mind, it just did.

He only felt how tense he was when he finally started to relax. His shoulders dropped, his arms just lay on his lap as he was being held by Ignis. It felt… so good. But it wasn’t the right word, because the more Prompto realized this was happening, that someone was holding him close, someone he could trust, the more overwhelmed he became. So overwhelmed that he felt his eyes burning.

“Wait I…” he started, wanting to move, but he just couldn’t. He felt Ignis smile a little as his hand moved to cup his cheek, brushing a thumb over his cheekbone.

“It’s fine, Prompto,” he spoke. Softly and quiet, only to him as he held Prompto a little tighter. The blonde couldn’t stop the tears then. He let out a low sob, burying his face into his hands as he cried. He felt Ignis press his lips against his forehead and that just made it worse.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” Prompto cried, trying to keep his voice down, his hiccups low, but he wasn’t sure it was working. Ignis muttered something that he couldn’t hear, just feel it rumble through his body.

It was unlike anything Prompto had felt before. It was so warm, so safe and felt like he was the center of the universe… Like he deserved his life. Like he was the most precious of all things. And all that was too much to bear. Too much to swallow down and push away into his tiny body. So that’s why the tears happened. And he couldn’t stop. He didn’t want to after a while. He just hid away in Ignis’ arms, crying and clinging to him and hiding in his warmth.

Prompto had no idea when he fell asleep, all he knew that when he woke up, he was laying down the bed, with Ignis’ arms still around him. He was also sleeping. Prompto felt his swollen eyes and sore throat, but his chest felt the lightest ever in his life. Now he knew why Noctis couldn’t exactly describe why Ignis’ cuddles were good. Because they weren’t just good. They were… home.

---

More to come for these series! When it’s done, I’ll put it on my AO3~

If you liked it consider buying me a Ko-fi~

Wrong Number - A FFXV Fic

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17446100  In case you don’t want to read via Tumblr.

Hearing a strange noise Noct sat up straighter on the sofa and paused the video game he was playing.  Then he heard it again, a shrill ringing sound coming from the kitchen.  Debating about whether to ignore it or not he finally put down the game controller and got up to investigate.

At first thinking that Ignis had left a timer going Noct was surprised to discover the horrid ringing was coming from a phone secured to the wall.

A real phone.

One with a curly cord coming out of it and everything, the prince had assumed this piece of molded plastic was merely part of the decoration.  It had never been used to his knowledge, no one had the number.  It was for emergencies or something of that nature.

He would later regret his decision but on a whim he picked up the handle and said ‘hello’.

A brisk male voice answered him back. “Sir, this is the Insomnian Internal Revenue Service calling to alert you that there is a warrant out for your arrest due to unpaid taxes.  If you wish to avoid immediate jail time we will need you to provide payment right now.  The authorities have already been alerted and are on their way.”

Noct was at a loss for words.  What the hell was happening?  “How did you get this number?” He quickly asked trying to buy time.

“Sir your arrest warrant had all of the contact details.  Are you able to find a form of payment right now?”

“You don’t have an arrest warrant.” Noct chided quickly.

“Sir this is serious, if you are unable to provide payment right now over the phone I won’t be able to cancel the warrant.”

There had to be a mistake.  Did he even pay taxes, he was the government!   Surely Ignis would have gotten wind of something this egregious way before he got a phone call about it.  

“Sir are you still there?” The man questioned.

“Uh – hold on.” Noct stammered.  He needed to distract the man so he could call Ignis on his cell phone.

“The best way to settle the balance is to give us your bank account routing number.”

“Let me grab my wallet can you hold on?” he tried again hoping the guy would give him a minute.

“Certainly, we suggest you hurry sir, the authorities have been called.”

“Yeah you mentioned that already.”  Noct retorted as he started frantically searching for his phone.  Shit. Where the hell was it?  Gods it was still on the sofa!  Without thinking he ran back into the living room and yelled when the kitchen phone violently yanked out of his hand.  Stupid cord, who ever thought that was a good design decision should be shot!

Stricken with indecision Noct straddled the entrance to the kitchen trying to figure out if he should pick up the phone or grab his cell first.  Hearing a faint voice on the telephone receiver as it rocked on the tile floor of the kitchen kicked his brain into gear and he ran into the living room for his cellphone.

Scrambling back a moment later he scooped the phone up off the floor and hoped the guy would still be there. “Hello, you there? Sorry I dropped the phone.”

“Of course sir, do you have the bank routing information?”  He questioned.

Ok this was complicated what hell was that? He asked the guy to hold on again and he quickly tried calling Ignis on his cell.  It rang five times and went to voice mail.  Damn it!  He immediately called again but the same thing happened.  

Shooting off a text instead requesting Ignis call him right away he tried Gladio next.  He would know if they were coming to arrest him.  He was part of the crownsguard!

Gladio’s cell phone didn’t even ring, it went straight to voicemail. What the hell what were his advisor and shield doing?  He needed them!

“Sir?” The man on the phone asked again with a hint of irritation.

“Yeah I’m here.  What?”

“The routing number sir did you find it?”

“Can you tell me where it is?”

“It will be on the bottom left of a check, sir.”

A check – did Noct even have access to a check.  Did he pay bills?   Maybe that was way the IIRS was after him.  “Ahhh what does a check look like?”

The man on the other end of the line sighed heavily and Noct was sure if he was there in person it would have included an eye roll.  “It would be a slip of paper from your checkbook sir.”

“Ok. Let me check.” Noct went to try Ignis again and noticed he had a text from the advisor.  It was useless.  ‘I’m working late like we discussed, I have no indication of an emergency at your apartment.  Please confirm you are alright.’  

Sighing he wrote back. ‘I’m safe for now but the IIRS is after me the cops are coming right now!’  Then he tried calling Gladio again.  Nothing.  

He got a text back almost immediately.  ‘As I have stated there are no alerts associated with your apartment.  Please let me get back to work.’

Six! Ignis wasn’t going to help him, Gladio was busy.  He had no choice left but to turn to Prompto.  The man from the phone suddenly distracted him again by asking if he was still there.

“Huh?”

“Sir did you have any luck finding a check?”

“Um still looking, give me a minute.”

Texting Prompto quickly he told his best friend he was being arrested soon unless he could find a check.  Trying to sound busy he started banging things around in the kitchen so the guy on the phone would think he was looking for this check.

“Sir if you are unable to find a check we can also take credit card.” The man offered after a minute.

Oh.  Noct knew he had that!  “What kind of credit card?”

“Any of them sir, go ahead and give me the number.”

Patting his pockets Noct realized his wallet was in the other room.   Not again! He put the phone down on the counter this time as he ran into the living room.  Coming back he sighed relieved that this would hopefully solve the problem.

“Uh I have my wallet right here let me see which card to use.”  He responded as he began rifling through the personal item.  Where was his card?  Suddenly a memory came flooding back to him. Ignis telling him the card was expiring and that the need to get him a new one.   So that meant no card either.  He was so screwed.

Desperation was taking over at this point and his cellphone ringing made him pause.  It was Prompto!  He answered while trying to balance the kitchen phone in-between his neck and ear.    

“Buddy, I need help!” He whispered into his cell.

“Noct, are you on the phone with someone?”

“Yeah the IIRS, I need help --.”

Prompto cut him off and practically yelled.  “Just hang up the phone Noct it’s a scam!”

“But they said they have an arrest warrant out for me!”

“Noct!  Hang up the godsdamned phone!” His friend shouted again.

The man from the IIRS spoke up once more. “Sir if you are unable to pay the taxes owed on this account associated with phone number 45-59752 I will have no choice but to request the authorities arrest you on site.”

Noct almost dropped the phone when the man finished. Right there in front of him taped to the phone and written in Ignis’ perfect script was the number for the kitchen phone.  It didn’t match.  They had called the wrong number!

He slammed the phone down on the receiver so hard it sounded like it cracked.

“NOCT!” Prompto yelled. “Are you still there? Did you hang up?”

“Huh --  Yeah I’m here.  That was a close call, they had the wrong number.”

“Dude, it’s a scam!  Wrong number or not!  You didn’t give them any information did you?” He asked worriedly.

“No, I couldn’t find any checks and I didn’t have my credit card on me.”  He answered with a sigh.

“Oh Emm Gee Noct, please promise me you will never give out information like that over the phone.  The IIRS doesn’t call they only send letters.”  

“Ok.  Are you sure it was a scam, they said --.”

Prompto interjected again. “That they were coming to arrest you and the only way to make it stop was to give them money.”

“Yeah!  How did you know?”

“Because it’s a scam I get those calls all the time. No one ever shows up to arrest me.  Trust me buddy.  Just relax and enjoy your evening.”

“Fine.” The prince huffed. “But it was scary.”

“It’s meant to be, just get some rest and forget about it.”

The call ended and Noct took a deep breath trying to calm his nerves.  He was never going to touch that phone again let alone answer it.

Ignis’ phone rang a few hours after his text messages from Noct.  It was Gladio and since he had just finished with work he picked up.

“Hey I missed a call from Noct, everything okay?  I was relaxing at home with a good book and didn’t realize my phone had died.”

“As far as I know, he called and texted me earlier about the IIRS being after him.  I don’t know what kind of video games he was playing tonight but I think they are doing more harm than good.”

“But you talked to him and he was ok?”

“I texted and he told me he was alright.  He thought he was getting arrested but I knew that was untrue.” Ignis paused for a moment. “Do you think his lack of vegetables is negatively affecting his brain?”

Gladio laughed. “Nah, he’s just Noct.  Drop me a text after you check on him tonight.  It’ll make me feel better to know he’s really alright.”

“Certainly, I’m on my way over there right now.” 

The apartment was dark when Ignis used his key in the front door.   The place was absolutely devoid of any sound.  He was starting to get worried and called out to Noct once he shuffled into the living room.

Suddenly there was movement in the dark space, a lump on the sofa had moved.  “Iggy?”  The voice was muffled but it was Noct.

Flicking on the light switch Ignis could see a flash of midnight black hair sticking out from a pile of blankets on the sofa.  “Noct are you alright?”

“The IIRS weren’t waiting outside were they?”

Sighing and rolling his eyes Ignis answered. “Highness, the IIRS sends letters they do not make house calls.”  

The prince responded by groaning loudly and retreating further into the blanket cocoon.  “So I’m safe?”

“Noct, of course you are.  I told you I checked when we texted earlier.  I won’t let the IIRS get you.”

“Thanks Specs.” He mumbled.  “Um do you think you could stay the night just in case?”

Ignis knew he would lose this battle if he tried to leave.  Why not have a movie marathon and try to get Noct’s mind off the IIRS.  Maybe he could get him to eat a carrot while he was recovering!

Bossy

I’m an angry lil potato today so this was born! Enjoy. Ft. Bossy ass dickwad Ignis and an angry reader

Genre: ??? Slice of life...?

Word Count: 2,047

Pairings: lowkey Ignis/reader if you really squint

Warnings: Swearing. So much swearing.

He was so bossy-always walking around with his back straight and head high, a commanding tone to his rich voice. He told you what to do, when to do it, and sometimes even how to do it, which had always been more insulting to you than he’d realized. Yes, Ignis Scientia was a bossy man, and it absolutely pushed your buttons. You two were meant to be equals - to serve Noctis as his advisers, together. Granted, Ignis had been Noctis’ adviser much longer than you as you had only been hired a year ago, however, that did not mean you were incapable of doing your job.

Part of you reminded yourself that he was a busy man, having to advise the damn prince alongside additional duties, so his commanding nature was necessary for everything to get done. Still, he didn’t have to be such an absolute posh-ass about it. Day after day, you had to live with his dumb requests, his dumb voice, his dumb glasses and it - no, he - was hell.

Ignis wasn’t a bad person by any means, but he definitely had his head stuck up his ass and you were absolutely sick of it. One day, your anger and your frustration caught up to you, leaving room for nothing but negativity to brew in your brain.

His loud, expensive shoes were clicking on down the hall as he listed off instructions for you to follow. “-and you’ll have to stop by to get the Marshal’s list of executive orders as well as follow through on the Shield’s list from last week. I trust you can manage that much in the next hour.”

Your mind halted. Next hour? Tracking down Cor would take a good half hour alone, and trying to get any information from Clarus Amicitia was like pulling teeth (You swore his stubbornness could stop a freight train if he tried). Your annoyance was peaking, and as you turned to rip Ignis a new one, he was already listing your next orders.

“-You’ll have to go speak with the Crownsguard about their atrocious behavior at Mini’s Bar from last night as well as collect their payments for the damages they caused. You would also do well to write down their reports as to what happened-” he paused, his pale green eyes flickering to your face for a moment. “Y/N? Are you listening? This is not the time to be daydreaming-”

You cut him off, voice barely controlled as your blood boiled beneath your skin. “Yeah. Yeah, I fucking heard you.” You said, your own eyes meeting his head on for the first time in your career. “You want me to do all these extra, menial chores, on top of my normal duties rather than have all these fucking responsible-ass adults report to you like they should fucking be able to do for once in their goddamn lives, all while you treat me like an absolute child with your dumbass face and your fucking-” You cut yourself off, face red in anger and voice slowly rising and shaking with repressed emotions.

Ignis’ eyes were surprised, “I beg your pardon-”

You cut him off once again, anger rolling into your voice. “Then fucking beg.” You halted where you stood and faced him with one sharp pencil pointed at his disgustingly well-toned chest. “I was fucking handpicked to be your goddamn equal! An adviser, just like you! Instead, you treat me like a five year old who can’t brush their own fucking teeth!” Your voice had risen to a yell as you jabbed your pencil towards him. “I’m fucking tired of this shit!” You finally finished, throat slightly sore. Glaring at him in his surprised daze, you threw your pencil to the ground and thrust your clipboard into his chest, not waiting for him to catch it as your turned on your heel. “I apologize for my fucking abrupt news, you absolute cactus of a prick, but I’m taking a personal fucking day off.” You snapped, not waiting for his response as you began to stomp down the Citadel hall.

Just to your luck, Prince Noctis was waiting at the end, his own eyebrows risen slightly and his best friend, a hyperactive blond you had seen hopping around, was slack jawed with his blue eyes wide in surprise. Behind them, the Prince’s shield had one perfectly bushy eyebrow raised, his muscled arms crossed as he gave you an appreciative nod.

It wasn’t often you saw Prince Noctis, or his shield, as Ignis never gave you chores that involved them. An embarrassed blush rose to your cheeks; you hadn’t planned on royalty witnessing you bout of anger. You bowed slightly before the Prince, “I apologize for my unprofessional behavior, Your Highness.” Your voice was clipped, a remainder of your anger echoing in its tone. “If you’ll excuse me.” Rather than wait for a response, which Ignis would no doubt reprimand you on (if he didn’t fire you, that is), you brushed passed them with a scowl on your face, a tense anger in your posture, and attitude in your step.

Ignis watched you as you disappeared behind a corner, his green eyes just a millimeter wider than normal and his lips parted in a slight “o”. He was holding the clipboard to his chest, more out of instinct than much else at this point. His eyes shifted as he heard the familiar steps of the other three approaching.

“Well, shit. I never thought they’d have it in ‘em.” Gladio’s rocky voice chuckled.

Ignis cleared his throat, closing his mouth as he adjusted his glasses and shutting his eyes for a millisecond. “That was the most appalling behavior I have ever witnessed from someone of such a high standing.” Ignis stated calmly, swallowing thickly. “There will no doubt be a punishment in order-”

Noctis cut Ignis off, “High standing?” He echoed, voice flat. Ignis glanced at Noctis, surprised at the sarcastic tone to his voice. Noctis continued, “For someone who’s supposedly, ‘High Standing’, you treat them like dirt.”

Ignis felt a twinge of offense. “I disagree-”

“-C’mon, specs.” Noctis crossed his arms. “Like they said, they were handpicked by my dad and about a billion other officials to be my second adviser, but you just give them shit that the lowest of the low could do around here.” If Ignis wasn’t mistaken, there was a note of annoyance in Noctis’ voice. “Hell, I can’t even remember their name half the time ‘cause they never even get to talk to me.”

It was silent for a moment. For the second time that day, Ignis’ eyes were wide and he was speechless.

Prompto piped up, voice a little uncertain as he looked at Noctis and whispered, “... You have a second adviser?”

It was with Prompto’s innocent question that things clicked. Ignis blinked, recalling the same list of chores he had given you that day. Sure enough, each item was a menial task that anyone could have done. In hindsight, Ignis was indeed being an “absolute cactus of a prick” as you had so kindly called him.

“I don’t know what your problem with them is,” Noctis said, catching Ignis’ attention. “But whatever it is, it needs to stop. Let them do their job, dude. I get it if you don’t want a new adviser to mess everything up or whatever it is, but they’re the best of the best. They can handle it.”

Ignis was quiet for a moment. He glanced to Gladio, who gave a grunt of agreement, and to Prompto, who still looked confused. He let out a small sigh, nodding. “I suppose-No, you are right, Your Highness. I do believe I have been rather… unfair to them. I believe an apology is in order.”

Noctis snorted, “Don’t tell that to me.” He replied, rolling his eyes.

Nodding, Ignis went to pull out his phone, only for Gladio to stop him. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, what do you think you’re doing?” Gladio asked, raised an eyebrow.

“Calling Y/N, of course-”

“I don’t think so.” Gladio chuckled, remembering that yes, Ignis is a genius, but sometimes he’s an idiot, “They’re taking a personal day off, remember? Let ‘em cool down for a bit.”

Ignis nodded, adjusting his glasses. Of course. They were most likely still angry, afterall, he was rather rude and dismissive of them… Still, as the day progressed, Ignis’ stomach was rolling around in the unfamiliar feeling of guilt. It wasn’t often that he felt guilt, as his decisions were logical and thorough enough to be guilt-free, although in this situation, he knew he was in the wrong.

The following day, you walked into Ignis’ office with a steeled mask over your features despite the clear nervousness in your posture. “Excuse me, sir.” You began, voice wavering slightly. Yes, you strongly disliked him, but that was no excuse for your harsh words. As much as it killed you to do so, you began to apologize. “I… I apologize for my words and actions yesterday.” His eyes glanced up, patiently waiting. You continued, “It was unprofessional an immature of me to behave in such a way-”

Ignis held up a hand, stopping you mid-sentence. “It was.” He stated bluntly, voice as posh as normal. A twinge of frustration bloomed in your gut, only to be stopped short by his next words. “However, you made logical points.” He began, standing up. There was something in his voice, an almost apologetic voice. His next words were strong, his voice sure. “You were handpicked from the finest advisers in the city, by the finest officials we have at the Citadel. You were chosen to stand by Prince Noctis and aid in advising him, just as I was. We were supposed to work together as equals and help him be the best Prince - the best King - that he can be.

“I came between you and your duty.” Ignis admitted, looking at you with guilt in his wonderful eyes. “I treated you as an assistant - even as a maid when we’re meant to be equals and…” He stepped around his desk, standing three feet away from you and looked you in the eye as he spoke, “I can only say I’m sorry.”

It was clear he expected you to say something, but you found yourself speechless. This posh, somewhat arrogant man who treated you like dirt, had apologized to you with nothing but respect. Part of you was still angry at him for wasting your past year as adviser, but another part - a much bigger part - forgave him.

It took you a moment to collect yourself and your words. It seemed with each passing second, Ignis felt more and more dejected about his apology. Finally, you spoke. “Part of me is still a bit annoyed.” You admitted, scratching your arm. “But… I think both of us were assholes, here. I think, as long as you’re willing to let me do my job from now on, that I forgive you, sir. I can only hope that you forgive me for my inappropriate outburst from yesterday.” You found yourself bowing slightly, eyes anchored to the ground.

A hand fell on your shoulder, your head jolting up in surprise. A small smile sat on Ignis’ face, catching you by surprise. “I do believe that bowing to each other will be unnecessary, as will be using terms such as ‘sir’.” He told you, his hand still on your shoulder as you stood up. “From now on, we are equals, Y/N, as we should have been.”

You couldn’t stop your own smile from sliding onto your face or your nervously thumping heart as you heard him say your name with respect.

“Now,” He began, releasing your shoulder and adjusting his glasses, “I do believe I have to fill you in on today’s schedule.” he chuckled, “I’ve left you in the dark for far too long.”

For once, as he spoke, his voice didn’t sound so dumb and his face didn’t look so annoying. In fact, you daresay that he looked handsome. Of course, there was no time to spend admiring him, as you two would be late for an advisement meeting with King Regis and there was plenty of catching up to do on the way.

Dysphoric

FANDOM: Final Fantasy XV PAIRING: Noctis/Prompto WORD COUNT: 2,311 LINKS: AO3 | FFN

Trans Prompto, dysphoria and a little bit of bed sharing. If this is the type of content you enjoy and you like my work, consider buying me a coffee! Also open to requests!

“Admit it, we're lost!”

“We are not lost.”

Prompto Argentum is the first to admit that Noctis isn't much of a liar. Hell, his honesty is probably a hazard to Lucis, as far as most its politicians are concerned, but that mattered little. He could say with confidence that most people preferred an honest king to a liar, even if he came baring disheartening information.

But as much of a liar Noct wasn’t, that didn’t mean he couldn’t tell one. Being a blunt guy didn’t mean he wouldn’t pretend that he knew where they were going until it was clear that he’d lost their way well over an hour ago.

“Dude, we're totally lost. There's the coeurl we killed like thirty minutes ago!”

“Okay, for on thing, that was maybe twenty minutes, but fine, yes,” Noctis says with an eye roll so aggressive that Prompto wouldn’t be surprised if they rolled right out of his head. He leans heavy on his “good” leg, eyes scouring the trees for their destination to no avail before making their way back to Prompto. “We’re a little lost.”

“Finally!” Prompto says, raising his hands toward the sky, as if reciting a silent prayer to the Astrals, thanking them for this blessing. Noct’s half-hearted glare stops him from actually singing his praises to the Six.

“You're more than welcome to show me where I should be going if you know so much better,” Noctis says with a wave of his hand, gesturing at the foreign landscape stretched out before him.

Oh, hell no.

“Right, uh, buddy. Pal. Kinda defeats the point of a camera man is he taking the lead.”

There’s another roll of his eyes, but Prompto doesn’t miss the way Noct’s lips twitch upwards into a smile that gives away his amusement.

“Yeah, you just wanna take pics of me falling on my ass,” Noctis says and Prompto touches a hand to his heart, offended by the mere concept that he would enjoy the opportunity to ruin his friend’s reputation. But he doesn’t have the chance to continue messing around, if only because they need to be adults for once, instead of letting Iggy do all the legwork for them.

“We're gonna have to camp soon. It's getting late,” Noctis says and any glee Prompto had found in their antics disappears. He groans at the idea of sleeping on the ground again. This would make the fourth night in a row—and this time, he couldn’t even blame Ignis being cheap.

“Ya know, I think we need to convince Ignis that sleeping on a giant magical rock that sends a smoky wisp thing up into the air to alert everyone to where it's at is probably not very beneficial to our health.”

“Tried it.”

A laugh spills from Prompto’s lips as a smile spreads across Noct’s face. The two of them walk onwards in the dimming light, searching for anything that might resemble safety once night fell. It’s the aforementioned sliver of smoky light that leads them to their destination and it’s not until he takes a running leap to the top of the rock that he realizes how shit out of luck they are.

“Aw, man,” Prompto says aloud, letting loose a whine as he swivels on his heels to look at his friend. “We’re gonna freeze our balls off out here, Noct.”

That was to be expected, but it somehow slipped his mind that as infinite as Noctis’s internal storage apparently was, their camping equipment had a home in the trunk of the Regalia, rather than the Armiger. Tents, sleeping bags… Come morning, they were both going to have nasty colds and aching backs to match.

“I have, uh…” Noctis says, pausing to hum softly before something flickers into existence in his hands, pulled from the Armiger. “This?”

This is a just a single, solitary blanket, not particularly thick and superior to what Prompto could offer—which was nothing—but it does little to make him feel better about the night they’d be spending away from their other comrades.

“That’s… not gonna get us very far.”

“Yeah, but it’s all we’ve got,” Noct says, shrugging off Prompto’s observation before he tosses the blanket to him. It covers Prompto’s face and by the time he’s wrestled it from the top of his head, Noctis is disappearing over the edge of the rock to retrieve a few pieces of firewood so they don’t actually freeze to death.

Apart from this sad little blanket, a fire was going to be their only means of staying relatively warm.

A sigh leaves his lips as he tips his head back for a moment to look at the stars starting to appear in the sky amidst the warm hues of the fading sun.

Looks like he's stuck prepping their, uh… sleeping arrangements.

Their camp is a sorry one. It can hardly be called one at all, but the sky is clear and the daemons are distant, so despite the chill in the air, they still had plenty to be thankful for. The fire isn’t going to stave off the cold as much as he’d like, but it’s better than nothing and it’s easy to ignore the chill in the air when he’s teasing Noct for cheating and using magic to start the fire.

It’s easy to ignore the temperature that’s steadily dipping sitting here with Noct, sucking down dinner that was little more than a nice meal of enhanced cup noodles. It’s not until they’re getting ready to underneath their single, solitary blanket that he begins to feel the cold. Their jackets are peeled away, laid down to defend them as much as possible from stone beneath them.

The rest should be easy. Years of knowing Noctis had given them time to have plenty of sleepovers in the past. There were perhaps too many times where Prompto ended up crashing at his place—in his bed—because he’d missed the last train. Not to mention, Noct was his best bud. The only real tragedy here would be if he wasn’t allowed to cuddle away the cold with him.

Noct is the first one to find a home in their shoddy sleeping arrangements. That’s no surprise. What he’s not expecting is for Noctis to stop him before he can crawl in to join him.

“C'mon, man, I'm freezing my junk off out here.”

“You’re not wearing that to bed.”

Violet blue eyes find a sudden interest in the stone beneath his feet more than the face of his friend. He can’t help biting down on his lip, chewing on the tender flesh there for a moment as he mulls over how to win the ensuing argument.

Anyone with half a brain would know what Noctis was talking about—and it’s not the pants he’s borrowed from him to keep the cold from clinging to his skin like it would if he slept in his boxers as per usual.

“Aw, come on, man. Don't be Ignis,” he tries, wringing his hands in front of him, chest constricting the minute the words were out of his mouth. That is 100% your anxiety, he tells himself, not wanting to believe it’s anything else, despite the likelihood of it.

The way Noct’s face scrunches up at the mere suggestion that he’s even remotely similar to his adviser elicits a breath of laughter from Prompto, though he knows a loss is in the cards. All he’s doing is prolonging the inevitable.

“I'm not ‘being Ignis’. You can't sleep in a binder, Prom.”

“Uh, and I can't sleep with my tits, like, on you.”

“Like they’re any different than mine.”

From day one, it’s been obvious that Prompto was the only one bothered by the disparity between his identity and his body. The only “disturbance” that had occured due to Prompto’s confession was Ignis being surprisingly upset that he hadn’t been told in advance so he could tailor meals more appropriately to minimize the negative impacts of what Prompto liked to call his “monthly hell”—and Prompto couldn’t have been happier to say that the extra effort wasn’t necessary.

But Noctis had known longer than Gladio or Ignis. He had found out back in high school, when his stupid uterus had decided to be on anything buta schedule and Prompto had been forced to tell the prince of his fucking country that he was trans and could he please go buy him a couple things because he couldn’t very well walk down the street bleeding everywhere.

Words could never express how grateful he was to have a friend that would not only go out and do exactly that, but would also deal with the weeksthat the press spent trying to track down who he was dating.

So if there was any one person that Prompto should feel comfort being around without a binder, it should probably be Noct—if only that was enough to will away his dysphoria.

“Prom,” Noctis says, voice as soft as it is stern. It’s the tone of his voice that dissolves whatever drive he has to keep his chest as flat as possible. Much as he hates the fat sacks hanging from his chest like a pair of anatomically-infused weights, sleeping in a binder is a bad idea.

Noct's right. He knows this; he knows that the ache in his chest isn’t anxiety.

“Fiiine, just… turn around, would ya?”

Noct does as told, but that doesn’t mean Prompto’s satisfied.

“And close your eyes.”

Prompto can’t even see his face to confirm whether or not he actually does it, but he decides that maybe—just maybe—Noct is trustworthy enough to assume that he did as told.

“And cover them with your hands!”

“Prom, really?” Noct asks, though Prompto hears more amusement than irritation in his voice, despite the exaggerated sigh as his hands move up to comply with Prompto’s demands.

“Listen, I'm not taking any chances with you after that time you grabbed me, Mister!”

Noct sputters, ears flushing bright even in the dim light as he tries and fails to make anything but words. It takes him so long to figure out how his mouth works that Prompto’s already stripping his tank off when he says, “It was an accident! Besides, you’re one to talk! You had your hand on my ass how many times today?!”

“Dude, I have to make sure you still have one after all the lazing around you do. Think about how disappointed Lady Lunafreya would be if her husband was assless?”

“Hey, I have an ass!”

“Yeah, sure, buddy,” he says with a laugh as he peels off the tight, black binder, letting loose a breath of sweet relief that came with the first opportunity he’s had to breath properly all day. But the absence of it reminds him of another issue as the air hits his bare skin, causing a shiver to rock his body. “Hey, uh… Don't suppose you have an extra shirt? Iggy had all of mine for washing… And the tank is a little…”

Tight, he wants to say, but the thought of how it would emphasize a part of his body that he hated second most was enough to make him cringe. But as always, Noctis doesn’t question him, doesn’t second guess whatever is on Prompto’s mind.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” he pauses to fish through the armiger a moment before retrieving one of his spare shirts and Prompto was grateful when he reached back without looking to hand it to him. He doesn’t scold him for pulling his hands away from his face to do it, either. “Here.”

“Thanks, man.”

It’s when the shirt is in his hands that he knows he’s been more than blessed by the Gods, given the friend that he has.

“Oh, Noct,” he whispers, tone exaggerated. “My favorite fabric. How did you know? Not even my nips will suffer tonight.”

He hears a huff of laughter from his friend, but the joke that follows has Prompto gasping in mock offense.

“It's my subtle way of saying, ‘Please keep your shirt on’.”

“Like you haven’t seen ‘em before, your highness.”

Both of them chuckle at that, knowing the truth of it. It’d be hard for Noct not to see his bare chest once of twice when he was constantly getting his ass kicked. How many times had he needed to help bandage a wound that he’d waited too long to grab a potion for?

Prompto pulls on the shirt offered to him, relishing in the familiar soft fabric that was easy even on the most sensitive of skin.

“Okay,” he says, signalling to Noct that he can finally turn back around. This time, their eyes meet and a smile lights Prompto’s face as Noctis opens up the space he’d previously closed off for his sake. He’s quick to settle into their makeshift sleeping bag, laying close—too close by the standards of some—to his friend and curling an arm around him. “Give me your best octopus impression.”

Noctis wastes no time in leeching off Prompto’s natural warmth while Prompto suffers a few minutes through the chill that’s settled into Noct’s limbs. He spots a hint of the same tired smile he’s been seeing all evening before it disappears into blond locks.

“Night, Prom,” Noct mutters, voice already slurred from sleep. He was going to wake up with a stiff back tomorrow. He was going to wish they'd never wandered out of Gladio and Ignis's field of vision, but he had none of those regrets right now.

“Night, Noct,” he whispers, the soft snoring he gets in response eliciting a giggle from him that fills his chest with warmth instead of the usual anxiety.

Nah, this couldn’t be counted among his regrets, no matter how sore his back would be come morning.

come and build this home with me

@promnisweek day 4; ignis teaches prompto how to cook

story tag / ao3

x

“You didn’t have to drop me off,” Prompto says for the third time. He’s trying to take up as little room in Ignis’ passenger seat as possible, as though that might make up for all the time he’s so certain he’s wasting. “I know you’re, like, stupid busy. I could have taken the train, no problem.”

“With a broken wrist?” Ignis says mildly, pulling up to the curb in front of Prompto’s building. “I think not. Come along, let’s get you inside.”

Prompto protests that he doesn’t need any help and Ignis ignores the protest in short order, shouldering both bags waiting for them in the backseat and then gesturing expansively for Prompto to lead the way inside.

“Consider me at your service this evening,” Ignis tells him.

The boy grumbles as he struggles one-handedly with his keys, but even the tips of his ears are pink. Ignis very carefully smothers a fond smile, and steps politely inside when the front door finally swings open.

The single-story home is small, the size of one of the modest apartments closer to the city center. It’s dark until Prompto flips on the hallway light, and still. It’s obviously been sitting empty in the days Prompto has been gone.

Does Prompto come home to this every day?

“Are your parents still away?” Ignis asks, following Prompto into the living room. He sets the bags down on the listing sofa. Prompto picks at the cast on his arm and doesn’t quite look at him.

“Yeah, they’re. Probably gonna be gone for awhile. Why?”

The doctor who treated Prompto’s arm tried to contact them and couldn’t get through. Ignis purses his lips but leaves the subject for another time, heading into the kitchen.

“Um,” Prompto says behind him.

Ignis ignores him, opening a cabinet at random. A handful of canned vegetables sit inside. The next door reveals a few boxes of elbow noodles. Suspicions confirmed, Ignis checks the fridge anyway. The milk inside is expired and aside from a half-dozen eggs the only things cluttering the shelves are the styrofoam containers of leftover takeout.

“I haven’t had a chance to go shopping recently,” Prompto says defensively. “You’re the one who kidnapped me, you should know I’ve been a hostage at Noct’s apartment for the last week.”

“Hm. Was it that miserable for you?”

“Ugh,” Prompto says, with feeling. “Don’t even. I know a guilt trip when I hear one. I have the frequent flier miles to prove it.”

Ignis can’t help but laugh quietly, closing the door on his inspection of the fridge. When he turns around, Prompto is staring at him as intently as if he’s taking a mental picture. Even wide eyes and a loose jaw manages to look charming on his face, Ignis despairs inwardly.

He came here this evening with a plan in mind to keep his promise to himself and tell Prompto in no uncertain terms that Ignis would very much be interested in taking him out to dinner.

He can feel that plan crumbling away now, another idea standing up in its place.

“As it so happens,” he says smoothly, “I have a proposition for you.”

Prompto swallows, visibly rallies himself. “What kind of proposition?”

“I’ve seen your attempts at cooking for yourself,” Ignis tells him, with enough warmth to take any sting out of the words, “and frankly, you’re abysmal.”

That startles a laugh out of the boy, shakes the heavy air between them into a familiar lightness. “Jeez, Iggy, tell me what you really think.”

“I wouldn’t be opposed to teaching you,” Ignis says. “I’m a fair hand at cooking, myself.”

“You’re way more than a fair hand,” Prompto says, leaning on the wall behind him. His words are shaped like his lingering smile. There’s something open and earnest in his face, something hopeful, but what he says is, “You have way more important stuff to do with your free time than make sure I don’t starve.”

Ignis would like to know why Prompto seems incapable of accepting any small kindness. He would like to know who conditioned him to believe he was always the lesser of two choices.

“What on Eos could be more important than that?” Ignis says crisply, pulling out his phone. “When are you free this week?”

Gladio, closet romantic that he is, finds the whole thing as amusing as Ignis knew he would.

“You’ve got your work cut out for you with that kid,” he says, lounging in one of the chairs in front of Ignis’ desk. “They don’t make ‘em more oblivious than Prom.”

“It’s not his fault,” Noctis interjects predictably. After a moment he adds, “He really is dumb about this stuff, though. A girl in our homeroom tried to ask him out once, back when we were sophomores, and he thought she was inviting him to a study session. He asked if I could come with.”

Gladio guffaws, and Ignis’ lips twitch in reluctant amusement.

“It’s just,” Noctis goes on, eyes dropping back to his phone. “I don’t think he thinks anyone could look at him like that for real. For a joke, maybe, but not for keeps.”

“Self-preservation at its finest,” Gladio says. He’s still grinning, but Ignis has no doubt what Gladio would do if he ever came face to face with someone who thought it was good fun to be cruel to his jogging partner. “Good luck, Specs.”

“And don’t screw it up,” Noctis adds, reabsorbed in King’s Knight.

“Thank you both for the show of confidence,” Ignis says coolly. “Prompto and I will be just fine.”

“Oh,” Prompto says two nights later, eyes like blue moons. As if the sight of Ignis standing on his stoop at the agreed-upon time with a paper bag full of groceries is the last thing he expected to see. “You actually came.”

Self-preservation, Gladio’s voice reminds him, and Ignis knows better than to feel slighted by Prompto’s owlish surprise that Ignis kept his word.

“Are you going to invite me in?” he says instead, raising an eyebrow.

Prompto scrambles back and pushes the door open wider with his good hand. He’s soft in worn T-shirt and faded jeans, barefoot on the cold hardwood, and his face is pink as Ignis sets the groceries on the table and shrugs out of his coat.

The house is too empty to be in disarray, but it’s clear Prompto made an extra effort to clean the place up. The air smells fresh with a cleaner of some sort, a pan and a few utensils already set out on the kitchen counter. Ignis takes note, and smiles down at his hands as he unpacks the food.

“You’re well-prepared,” Ignis says, with a nod to the cutlery waiting for them by the stove. “I thought I would teach you how to make peppery daggerquill rice. You enjoyed that when we had it last week, and it’s easy enough to start with.”  

And Prompto drifts right over, darting sidelong looks at Ignis all the while. His eyes are bright, the way they usually are behind the viewfinder of his camera.

“Dude,” he says, mock serious, “if I can make rice taste half as good as you can, I’m gonna sign up for one of those cooking competitions on TV.”

“I have no doubts in your abilities. When you win, I expect a cut.”

“Duh! Sixty-forty, obviously.”

“Obviously.” Ignis passes Prompto one of the aprons he brought from home. “Let’s not count our fish before they’re caught. Put this on, and we’ll get to work.”

Prompto is limited with only one hand to work with, but he watches avidly as Ignis sets out spices and details how to cook rice without scorching the bottom of the pot. It’s an easy dish for a beginner, a little spicier than Ignis usually makes it to suit Prompto’s palate, and they eat together at his small kitchen table under a warm, low-hanging light.

“Thanks for this,” Prompto says, smiling down at his plate. “For keeping me company. You didn’t have to.”

“It was my pleasure,” Ignis says firmly. And truly, it was. “Next week,” he adds, “we’ll try our luck at bouillon.”

“Next week,” Prompto parrots, that shy expression blooming into a blinding grin. “It’s a date!”

He says it without any sweet stammering, which only proves he didn’t mean it any other way but technically, pleased at the prospect of cooking with his friend again and nothing more.

Ignis smiles helplessly back at him.

“I’m looking forward to it,” he says sincerely.

A Royal Commission (18)

Literal self-indulgent silliness? You fuckin’ bet :)

For @fleetstreetfatality who I hope smiles a bit reading this <3 If you’re new to this series, here’s the rest!

Prompto is learning new things every minute about the most powerful men in the country. All of which would be excellent fodder for the tabloids, if he were so inclined...if he weren’t already in love with them all.

“Is it always...this?”

Cor just sighs, crossing his arms and taking in the scene before the two of them with an evaluating set to his lips.

“Usually it’s devolved to some form of physical challenge by now, to be honest. It’s been very civil this year.”

Prompto stares at him, then looks back to the others, Noctis is splayed out in his chair, legs spread, one drapped over the arm, chin just resting on his fingertips, elbow on the unoccupied arm. It’s hot as hell, with the imperial expression on his face and Prompto has too look away from him quickly. Regis is standing ramrod straight, one eyebrow raised and the same hauty look that his son has is painted on his face. Gladiolus and Clarus are posturing rather intensely at each other behind their respective charges, two pairs of intense eyebrows communicating all their own.

Ignis is sipping his coffee but each time he sets his cup down the sound is crisp and pointed and his relaxed elegance seems drawn tight. Beside him Iris is bouncing in her chair and keeps shooting Prompto looks of excitement. He isn’t sure how things got so out of hand, one minute Noctis’ points were tied with his and everything was fine and then he was climbing until he had the most points, leaving Prompto in the dust. Regis, the defending champion, behind Iris (Prompto learned they just counted second place as winning because she was that good) had stood from his chair and the weirdest moment of Prompto’s life had begun.

Cor leans back a little beside him, they’re at the very end of the long table, something that Prompto had pouted about a little at first since it was further from Noctis, and hums. 

“Regis is going to say something soon...five crowns it’s an offer of peace, full throne room decorum.”

Prompto glances at Noctis and smiles, he can play this game, “Noct won’t take it, six crowns he doesn’t even say words to decline.”

Cor raises an eyebrow at the specificity but then continues, “Double or nothing if Regis challenges him to a contest.”

“You’re on, Noct will try to make Gladio do it for him.”

“Extra hour of training tomorrow if he gets you to do it for him...or with him.”

Prompto groans at the exact moment Reigs speaks.

“Prince Noctis, it has been pleasurable to play but it is growing later. Let’s be gentlemen and bow out gracefully now, Lady Iris certainly has us beaten.”

Prompto just waits, and sure enough, Noctis scoffs and waves a hand dismissively, a clear refusal. Regis smiles a bit at his son.

“It’s been awhile since our last battle, hasn’t it? What say you Clarus?”

Prompto is a touch more concerned at the way that everyone seems to be aware of something important, Clarus is nodding and the others are standing, even Cor. He scrambles to his feet as well and throws a desperate look at Noctis who just winks at him and goes back to staring at his father, rising from his chair with unusual grace.

“Ignis?”

Noctis sounds confident in the answer to his question but Prompto watches in horror as Ignis shakes his head and gestures to him. The Prince looks him over for a moment, lips slightly pursed and then he grins.

“Prompto then, is my partner.”

Regis nods seriously and Cor just sighs, claps Prompto’s shoulder, and he, Ignis, Gladio, and Iris start pushing furniture out of the way, creating an open space that’s alarmingly wide to Prompto.

“Noct? What did you just sign me up for dude?”

His lover laughs a little and comes closer, pressing his fist to Prompto’s shoulder.

“Fun, and the knowledge you get to kick a King’s butt!”

He’s already not looking forward to the extra training and there’s the little detail of fighting a literal ruler. Not that he hasn’t wacked Noctis a time or two when the Prince is being particularly irritating...

Whatever, the point stands.

“What exactly are we doing?”

Noctis leans into him and Prompto snakes an arm around his waist on instinct, listening to his Prince explain. The game is simple, Regis will get on Clarus’ shoulders, Noctis on Prompto’s, the first group to have a player fall loses.

“Noct...They’re both a lot stronger than us.”

It’s clearly not a deterrent because Noctis just shrugs, “So? I’ve got way better balance than Dad and you’re faster than Clarus, just keep me up and we’ll win for sure.”

Prompto looks at the joy and confidence radiating from Noctis and just gives in.

“You’ve never even heard of stacked odds have you?”

Noct just laughs again and the sound of it warms Prompto from his toes. He wonders, for a moment, if there’s a way to capture the feeling of Noctis’ smile in an image. If there is he’ll have to ink it over his heart. 

Noctis touches Prompto’s lip ring, “You might want to take this out or something though.”

Prompto groans but nods and goes to switch it out for a small clear spacer instead. When he returns the tables, chairs, and various smaller items have been shoved against the walls in haphazard positions to clear a space wide enough for the four of them to do something dumb.

He reflexively looks up at the ceiling, it’s higher than a lot of places like this, but he’s still pretty sure that someone’s going to get some brain damage from the exposed beams. 

Cor just follows his gaze and shrugs at him when he looks askance and Prompto figures that’s pretty much all there is too it. Though, consider neither Noctis nor himself has much height he can probably use it to their advantage.

“Ready?”

Noctis is dressed down, having tossed off his fishing vest and his boots are off. Prompto takes the hint and rolls the bottom of his pants so he won’t step on them and tugs off his socks for better traction. On the other side of the space Clarus and Regis are already in more flexible clothing, soft dark knit training clothes (and yeah, it’s still weird for Prompto) talking quietly.

“So...strategy?”

Noctis studies the space and looks back at Prompto with a serious set to his lips, “Alright, here’s the plan...don’t fall.”

Prompto stares and then snorts, “Noctis, that’s as good a plan as “hey, don’t die when I kill you.””

The Prince just glares, “No, specifically you don’t fall, just keep us out of the way of their hits as much as you can, since you’re the feet, and I’ll do the rest.”

“See, now that’s only kinda a plan.”

“Prom, listen, I know all of my Dad’s ticklish spots and NO ONE tickles a King, so he’ll squirm himself right off Clarus’ shoulders as long as you can dance around fast enough.”

Prompto grins, because yeah, that sounds like it might actually work. 

“Now bend down so I can get in position.”

Prompto mock bows at Noctis but keeps his mouth shut and turns the gesture into the kneel needed for Noctis to sling his legs over Prompto’s shoulders. The Prince is built sturdy but still light and Prompto’s grateful he’s done more strength training at the gym lately. 

Regis seats himself on Clarus and Cor steps forward just as Iris rushes back into the space, a bowl of popcorn in her hands and a grin on her face.

Cor just sighs as she plops down between Ignis and Gladio on the couch that’s been shoved next to the door.

“Alright gentlemen, rules are: No hair pulling, no switching partners, try not to break each other, Top fighter can’t kick bottom fighter in the face or grab them by their nostrils, and if you do that ever again Regis I will personally dethrone you, loser has to fight Iggy and Gladiolus. Good luck.”

Prompto wants, very suddenly, to win incredibly badly. He doesn’t know if there’s any other signal, so he waits for Noctis to direct him, the Prince touches his cheek lightly and Prompto glances up as much as he can, catching the edge of Noctis’ smile.

“Let’s do it!”

They make the first move, Prompto’s feet carrying them forward quickly and Noctis jabs at his father’s chest, Regis blocks it, but only just and Clarus leans into it a bit to counter-balance them. The test of balance doesn’t get returned though, since Prompto’s already pulled them out of reach when Regis tries it.

“Ooh, he’s fast!” Iris’ voice almost distracts him as they are rushed and he feels more than see’s Regis’ shove to Noctis, though he barely has to do anything to resist the movement since Noctis seems to absorb the force and balance himself.

He returns the attack, grabbing his father and pulling him forward, fingers digging into this armpits. 

Prompto, as a result, finds himself in the bizarre position of being nose to cheek with Clarus Amicitia. They don’t speak, any movement and they might be kissing and Prompto feels his cheeks burning as Iris catcalls and Gladio’s laughter drowns out Ignis’ own chuckle.

He can’t back away, aware that if he does Noctis will be pulled off his shoulders but he doesn’t have to.

Clarus jerks back, Regis’ foot swinging a hair’s breadth from Prompto’s face as he flails backwards, his son’s attack and his own squirming having forced him off balance. Clarus tries to compensate as they part, and Prompto can see that he’s going to fail.

“YES!” Noctis yelps as the two teeter and Prompto’s almost whooping when they find their balance.

“Oh. Uh-oh.” Prompto’s grin fades as Regis regains himself and the determination in Clarus’ eyes is renewed.

“Uh, Noct?”

“Iggy’s gonna cream us dude.”

Prompto laughs, “Maybe we should focus on not dying to your father first?”

They brace themselves and give it their all, but Clarus sweeps Prompto’s feet out from under him as Regis abuses Noctis’ own ticklish spots.  

Laying together in a pile of limbs Prompto’s ribs hurt from laughing and Noctis keeps kissing his face and telling him he’s “a brave knight.”

They’re only pulled from it when Ignis clears his throat delicately. Prompto sighs, resigned to their fate and kneels again for the Prince. 

Gladiolus does the same for Ignis and the two sides rise together, only to have their epic stare off broken when Ignis makes a very undignified sound.

His perfectly styled hair is being crunched beneath the beam that Prompto noted at first and he half-slaps Gladio’s cheek in a silent effort to get him to move out from under it.

The shield scoffs but steps to the side and Ignis spends a few moments carefully fixing his style. Noctis’ laughter and Prompto’s own make it hard to stay upright together. Their opponents wait for them to get it together and Prompto groans again.

“Not too many brusies Gladio, please.”

The big man just winks at him and he and Ignis launch their attack.

It’s over in a minute, a painful and humiliating minute. Prompto’s breathing is labored, the wind knocking out of him by Gladio’s fist and Noctis isn’t in much better shape laying beside him. 

Gladio is grinning at them as Cor lazily declares the winners, “Not laughing now huh kid?”

Prompto grins wide and Noctis flips him the bird, to the amusement of the other’s. Regis helps them up and they all take a second to breath.

“It’s been ages since we did that.” Clarus is a bit breathless as he speaks and Noctis nods in agreement.

“Ages since we did a lot of things, I’d say you’d better keep this one around Noctis, he seems to make us remember how to live a little.” Cor says it, nudging Prompto’s back and making him blush again.

“As long as he doesn’t try to kiss dad again!” Iris chimes in and Prompto isn’t sure he could get much redder.

Noctis laughs and pulls him into a kiss instead, his lips soft and Prompto can’t manage to be embarrassed about the display as he kisses him back.

“Awwwww.”

This time Prompto joins Noctis in flipping off the room.

Birds of a Feather Chapter 13: We’re Both Kinda Stupid (A Prompto x OC Soulmate AU)

Chapter 12 <-/AO3/-> Chapter 14

Masterlist

Word count: 3,832

Holy shit, how did I get this done so quickly, I thought I’d be working on this for a few days.

Anyway, it’s the moment you’ve all been waiting for! That’s right, these two are finally confessing! And it’s filled with all the emotional stuff and fluff! Which is probably why this chapter is so long because I kept wanting to add stuff to it. Now you might be thinking this is the end stretch, but nope! There’s still some stuff these two need to go through before we get to the epilogue. So the next few chapters are just gonna be a calm before the storm, technically speaking. Figured it’s about time we had some of that after all this damn drama.

Tagging: @themissimmortal, @cupnoodle-queen, @nifwrites, @takuahijackedthetardis, @lunarlapin, and @mini-moogle-queen. Lemme know if you want to be tagged in future updates. Also farewell to blindbae, she was a huge inspiration for me to write this and will be greatly missed in the FFXV writing circles.

"Hey Prompto, what's up? Any luck with Kat?" Noctis' voice rang through the phone speaker.

Prompto sighed, slumping into the seat in the Leville's lobby. "No, not really," he said. "I mean, I didn't expect this to be easy, but it doesn't feel like I'm making any progress."

"Huh? But it's been three days now. How has nothing happened?"

"I don't know, I keep doing stuff with her around the city like you told me to. Taken her out to eat, gone to a movie, you name it. We've probably done it."

"And she hasn't changed at all?"

"That's the weird part, whenever we do something I see her smile, feel her happiness, and then I think to myself that this is the moment, I have to tell her. But then it's like she's snapping out of a trance or something, she goes back to being sad and tries making up an excuse to leave. It's like she wants to be happy but she's holding herself back. I'm running out of things to do that'll make her happy. What do I do, Noct?"

The other end of the phone went silent for a moment. He thought he heard some muttering, likely Ignis and Gladio giving their thoughts. "Okay, don't wait until the moment's right. The next time she looks happy, you tell her. No beating around the bush, no stalling, you just tell her. Got it?"

That wasn't the advice he was looking for, but it was better than nothing he guessed. "Sure, I can try that. Might as well get it over with. Let's just hope it works."

"It's bound to bring out some kind of response," Noctis sounded confident, as if he knew this would work. "Well, I won't keep you hanging. Go get her, Casanova."

"Dude, don't call me that! I'm no Casanova."

"Whatever, just go tell her already." The phone hung up, leaving Prompto in a silent room. Noctis was right, it was about time he told her. Katia must've been awake by now, might as well go tell her the plan for today. He headed up the stairs, going to the room they'd booked.

He opened the door and found her sitting on the bed, staring at a blank page in her sketchbook. She didn't even notice he'd walked in. Probably lost in her thoughts again. He put on a smile and walked over to her. "Morning, Kat!"

Her head shot up as she glanced at Prompto. "Oh, yeah, morning." she said.

"So I found out there's an arcade here!" Prompto figured it was best to bring out the big guns, there's no way Katia would be able to resist a good video game hub. "It's not as big as the one we used to hang at, but they still have a ton of games to play! So after getting breakfast, we can go over there and-"

"Prompto, why are you doing all this?" A sudden question broke through his explanation, causing Prompto to go silent. Katia didn't say anything else, so he just asked what was on his mind.

"What d'you mean? I told you I wanted to spend time with you, remember?"

"There's some other reason, isn't there?" she asked. "This isn't just about spending time with me. Did Noct put you up to this? I already know he's the reason you stayed behind. So what's his goal here? Did he bribe you to stay and make me feel better?" With every word she spoke, she started to sound angrier. "Are you just doing all of this out of pity for me?" She stood up to face him directly.

No, no, no! This wasn't right at all! "Kat, what's gotten into you?"

"Just answer the damn question, Prompto!" She was almost shouting, and the anger in her eyes made him want to cry. How did things get like this?

"No, he didn't bribe me. This isn't out of pity, or anything like that!" He tried to keep his emotions in check, the last thing they needed was the both of them getting hysterical. "Come on Kat, you know me better than that! I'm doing all this because I care about you!"

"Yeah, sure, you care about me! That's why until now you didn't speak to me, because you were soooo worried about your best friend!"

"You're not even making any sense! I tried to talk to you and approach you but you kept avoiding me at every turn!" Now he was starting to feel angry, but he had to stay calm. Otherwise things would only get worse. "Just listen to yourself!"

"Well maybe I don't want you to help me! Maybe I just want to be left alone! Is that too much to ask for?!" She could feel tears in the back of her eyes, trying to break free. She couldn't let them through though.

"Is that why you want to leave so badly? Because you can't stand being around me anymore?" He never wanted to make that accusation but the words slipped from his mouth before he could stop them.

"You wouldn't understand, Prompto!"

"I would if you just talked to me! How can I understand if you don't tell me anything?" Prompto's own tears began to fall. He never wanted to fight with Katia, but she just wasn't listening to reason. All the frustration and sadness that'd been building up since they left Caem had reached a boiling point. And it seems like hers was as well.

"What do you want me to tell you? It's not like I can just come up to you and confess that I love you, now can I?!"

Prompto went silent, his anger evaporating. The moment she realized what she'd just said, Katia stepped back in shock. She just said that. He knew. And now he was going to hate her for being so shallow and jealous. The tears she'd been trying to hold back broke free, and she fell to her knees. She couldn't even muster any words, she just sat there and cried into her hands.

Prompto stood there, processing what he'd just heard. Part of him wanted to celebrate, knowing that she loved him back, but the other part couldn't. Not just because she was sobbing on the floor, but because there was something else going on that he didn't understand. Well, the first thing he needed to do was get her to calm down. He kneeled down to her level, holding back the urge to place a hand on her shoulder in fear that she'd back away. "Kat, do you really love me?" he asked, feeling like he needed to confirm it for certain.

"Why do you care?" she said though her sobs, not yet hyperventilating but clearly on the verge of it. "It's not like it matters!"

"What are you talking about? Why wouldn't it matter?" He spoke in the most calming voice he could, he had to approach this in a specific way.

"Because you already love someone else! And no matter what, I can't be like Cindy or Aranea! And I'm a selfish, jealous person who can't get over this! Not after seeing you confessing to Cindy or how you look at Aranea!"

So that was it. This whole mess started because she saw him ask Cindy out. That explained the pain in his chest he felt after he was turned down. Noctis was right, Katia never hated him. She loved him but thought she'd already lost her chance. Six, he felt like an idiot for not realizing it sooner. It felt completely obvious.

"Kat, Cindy rejected me and Aranea's way out of my league." he told her. He could still fix this. He just had to go slow.

"So? What does that have to do with anything?"

"Because I don't love them," Katia moved her hands from her face, a sniffle coming out of her as she tried to stop crying. "I mean, Cindy's amazing and all, but I realized I didn't love her when she rejected me. And Aranea's cool too, but I never even thought of trying to win her over. I was too worried about you. Besides, why would I care if you felt jealous about them?"

"I...I don't..." She tried to speak, but she couldn't form the words in her head. Now she felt stupid about all this. She knew better than to think that Prompto would care about such a thing. She was caught up in her heartbreak the entire time.

Well, she wasn't completely calm, but at least now she wouldn't back away from him. Feeling bold, Prompto lifted Katia off the floor and took her into his arms. It felt nice, warm, comforting. So this was what is felt like to hold your soulmate. He didn't want to let her go.

Katia didn't understand what was happening. She'd never been hugged by Prompto before, yet it felt so nice. Almost like she was supposed to be there. But as much as she wanted to enjoy the feeling, there were too many questions holding her back. "Prompto, why are you hugging me?"

"Isn't it obvious?" He felt her shake her head. "It's 'cause I love you."

"I know, I know, I'm your best friend and all-"

"No Kat, I'm in love with you."

What did he just say? There's no way he could be telling the truth. Katia stepped out of his embrace, an attempt at smiling on her face that just looked extremely forced. "Ahahaha, that's a good joke there! You almost got me for a second!" She tried to force a happy tone, but it too just sounded awkward. She laughed, trying to make sense of the situation. He probably said that to make her feel better, yeah, that's it.

Prompto just frowned, she still didn't get it. He had to convince her and he didn't want to resort to the marking just yet. "Kat, I'm not joking. I'm serious. I do love you."

The uncomfortable laughter stopped, Katia struggling to hold her facade up. "Oh come on Prompto, you don't need to say that just to make me feel better. I've already accepted that I'm not gonna find love, especially not with you. So thanks for trying and all, but you can stop now." Tears were threatening to slip down her face again.

Prompto took a deep breath. He had to break this idea or else she'd never accept it. "Kat, why do you love me?"

She was startled by the sudden question. "Wh-What? Why are you-"

"Just answer the question. Tell me why you love me."

Katia stood there in thought for a moment, thinking over all the reasons she had. "Um, I love you because of your kindness. You're funny, interesting, energetic, I could go on really. You're always there for me when I'm upset, doing your best to make me smile again even in the worst circumstances," Kinda like now, not that she'd say it out loud. "You seem to know just what I need to hear before I do. And honestly, you're adorable. I love your smile, your freckles, your hair that looks like a chocobo, your eyes, your jokes, your voice, everything about you is so adorable to me. You're like living sunlight, always there to brighten up my day and shining as bright as you can. With all that in mind, how could I not love you?" A genuine smile finally graced her face.

Prompto felt like he was on the verge of tears, happy ones though. He just didn't get how Katia could see all that and more in him. "But compared to the others, I'm just a nobody. I'm not smart like Ignis, I'm not strong like Gladio, and I'm not royalty like Noct. There's a ton of better options out there for you, and yet you pick me."

Katia walked back over to him, wiping away a stray tear he didn't realize had escaped. "But I don't care about any of those things. I don't want royalty, or strength, or intelligence. Besides, Noct's not my type and is supposed to get hitched, Gladio's got nice muscles but isn't what I'm looking for, and Ignis has his own love life to figure out since we all know he's into you-know-who. That and he's too uptight for me. I don't want any of them, I want you. Because you're you. Because there's no one else like you in all of Eos."

Six, she was making him fall for her even more without even trying. "That's how I feel about you. You're sweet and kind, always worrying about others. You laugh at my jokes no matter how stupid they are. You're smart, smarter than you realize. You're passionate over whatever you love or set your mind too. You know about the side of me that I try to hide, and yet you still love me despite all that. Not to mention you're both beautiful and adorable at the same time," He brushed a strand of hair out of her face. "You're right, you can't be like Cindy or Aranea. But that doesn't matter because I don't want you to be like Cindy or Aranea. I want you because you're you. I love you for who you already are, Kat. And there's no one in all of Eos who comes close to you. No one could be a better fit for me."

Katia felt her heart skip a beat. That was too elaborate to be a joke or a lie or just something being said to make her feel better. This was real. Prompto loved her. And as much as she wanted to be happy about that, there was still one nagging question at the back of her mind. "Okay, you love me, I can't deny that. But surely there's someone out there who's a better fit for you. What about your soulmate? I mean, I already gave up on looking for mine because you make me happy, but surely yours is out there somewhere ready to make you happy, right?"

This was it. He could finally tell her. "I don't need to look for my soulmate," Prompto removed everything from his right arm, showing her his wrist. Katia looked confused at first, why show her his wrist when she'd already seen it herself? But then she realized what was there, and her eyes widened. "I've already found her, and she's right in front of me."

Katia slipped off her wristband, comparing the mark she was staring at to her own. Sure enough, it was the exact same chocobo feather mark, in the exact same place but mirrored. She'd been by her soulmate the whole time and never noticed. How could she be so stupid? "Wait, how did you know..." she tried to say, but couldn't finish the question.

"The night we were at the nightclub, you'd been tossing in your sleep. Squeaky was just lying there on the floor, so I thought I should bring him back to you and that's when I saw it," He took hold of her hand. "That's how I learned we were soulmates."

He squeezed her hand, and Katia felt the ever familiar warmth from it. But now she understood why she felt it, it was the marks reacting to each other. The more she thought about it, the stupider she felt for not realizing it sooner. "No wonder Noct was always teasing us, the little shit probably knew all along," she laughed. "How is it that he knew but I couldn't figure it out? I'm such an idiot."

Prompto chuckled as well. "Hey, I didn't realize it either until four days ago. So I guess that means we're both idiots."

"Yeah, we're both kinda stupid then. We'd have to be to not realize we've been in love with each other this whole damn time."

The two of them just looked at each other, awkward smiles on their faces. Suddenly, Katia tackled Prompto into a hug, sending them both on the bed's surface. They looked into each others eyes, knowing exactly what the other was thinking without even saying it. And it was something they both wanted for a long time. Without hesitation, Prompto wrapped his arms around her as their lips pressed against each other. They had no idea what they were doing, neither of them had any experience in kissing before, but they didn't care. In that moment, after letting out all those pent-up emotions and feelings they had for each other, this felt right. As the kiss prolonged, their bodies felt warmer. Was this what it was like to kiss your soulmate? Because they could get used to this.

They finally separated, the two of them rolled onto their sides. Their breathing felt heavy and their hearts were racing. In the back of their minds, the realization that they just kissed came to them, causing both of them to go red in the face. They sat up, unsure of what to say to each other.

"So, um, that was awkward..." Katia finally spoke up, a nervous laugh escaping her.

"Isn't that how a first kiss is supposed to be?" Prompto asked.

"Yeah, I guess so. ...It felt really good though."

"Yeah..."

More silence. Katia's hand inched towards Prompto's, taking hold of it. She would've prefered to stay there like that, but a question broke through the silence.

"Does this mean you'll stay with us? To go to Altissia I mean." Prompto asked.

Katia thought about it. Just moments ago she'd been teetering on the edge of leaving or staying, but after all that just happened she knew exactly what she wanted. Being with Prompto made her happy, being with her made him happy. She'd stuck around this long, there was no good reason for her to stop now. Besides, she'd probably just be worried sick about him if she didn't go with him. She edged back to his side, resting her head on his shoulder. "Yeah, I'm gonna stay. Someone has to keep you out of trouble after all."

Prompto's chest felt lighter than air. This was the Katia he wanted to see, the Katia he fell in love with. And now she was back. "I love you Kat."

"I love you too, Prom."

Yep, that solidified it, Katia was back to her old self. He never wanted to see her like that again, for any reason. He swore to himself that he'd never make her sad again, that she'd never fall into that state ever again.

"So what do we do now?" Katia asked, separating herself from Prompto.

"Well, there's still the whole arcade thing if you're up to it. Though we should still go get some breakfast-"

Katia giggled. "No Prom, I meant about us. Are we a couple now, should we even jump into that? I don't know how this whole soulmate thing works."

"Oh. That's what you meant." He sat there in thought for a moment. "I mean, I wanna be your boyfriend. Would you be okay with that?"

"...Yeah, I want you to be my boyfriend. And I wanna be your girlfriend."

"So I guess we're dating then."

"Though knowing us, we probably have been this whole time without realizing it." Both of them laughed at that comment.

"Fair enough." Prompto jumped off the bed and held his hand out for Katia. "How about we celebrate our official first date with some breakfast though?"

She stood up as well. "That sounds like a good idea to-OH CRAP."

Prompto was startled by the sudden yell. "What's wrong?"

Katia searched through her pockets, frantically looking for something. "No, no, no, don't tell me I lost it! I had something I wanted to give you but now I can't find it! I worked so hard on it too!"

Prompto looked through his pockets, finding the chocobo feather necklace Noctis had handed him. "You wouldn't be talking about this, would you?" He held it out for her to see.

"Yes, but, how'd you find it? I wanted to surprise you with it."

"Noct found it. Told me I should hang on to it until this moment," He slipped it on, the colors standing out a bit compared to his Crownsguard outfit. "If it helps, I was surprised when Noct showed it to me. I love it. Thanks Kat."

His smiles could just melt her heart, and she swore he knew that now. "That's good. Let's go get some food, I'm super hungry."

"Wait, one last thing!" Before she could ask, Prompto dug out his camera. "Gotta take a special picture to celebrate us becoming a couple!" Of course that's what he wanted. Not that she minded. She was perfectly happy to take a picture with him. She stood next to him as the camera was pointed their way. "You ready?" She nodded her head. She expected him to tell her to say cheese, but instead she felt a kiss being left on her cheek as the camera took the photo. Not that she would complain. She was just happy all this weirdness was over. That she was with her soulmate, Prompto Argentum.

--------------------------------

Noctis was surprised to hear his phone go off for the second time that day. Thankfully they'd just dealt with the hunt they took on, so he was free to answer it. Not even looking at the caller ID, he answered the phone. "You okay Prompto?"

"You bet I'm okay! I'm on top of the world, Noct!" Prompto's cheery voice sounded from the other end.

"So I take it that you finally confessed?"

"You could say that. It's a little complicated. Point is, Kat's back to normal and we're sort of a couple now."

"Sort of?"

"You know what I mean. Anyway, she's decided to stay with us! We're about to head out for a nearby hunt to make sure she's in top condition, but the next chance you get you should come pick us up in Lestallum. We won't need to be staying here anymore."

"Got it. I'll let Specs know to head over there asap. You two take care of your business and we'll meet you at the usual parking spot."

"Awesome! I'll let Kat know! See you guys soon!" Prompto hung up.

Noctis put his phone away and chuckled. He knew they'd spit things out if he just left them alone. He turned around to Gladio and Ignis, who were dusting themselves off from the fight. "Hey Ignis, let's hit the road! We have to pick up Prompto and Kat!"

"Very well. I suppose all good things must come to an end eventually." Ignis said, earning him a playful punch in the arm from Gladio.

"Aw don't deny it, you like those two kids." he said.

Ignis didn't respond and simply went to the Regalia. "I'll get the car started." Gladio followed behind him until Noctis held him back with his arm.

"I believe you owe me 500 gil."

Hoping for Some Permanence | Chapter Two

Word Count: 5700/11950

Chapter: 2/?

Pairing: Noctis/Prompto

Warnings: canonical minor character death (mention only), anxiety descriptions/mentions

Other Tags: Modern AU, Angst, Fluff, Dad!Cor, Slow Burn 

(Chapter One Here)

[Read on Ao3]

It's all a bit of luck, really.

Prompto thinks a good deal of his life is all a bit of luck, when it comes down to it. There are key and pivotal points where things could have gone wrong, where he could have wound up on a path that is anything but the pleasant, relatively simple one he's on now. He lives a life of near-misses, maybe a bit too often, but he has a way of coming out on top and he decides, while he's waiting for the food he's ordered himself and his unexpected date, that he's definitely coming out on top here.

He doesn't think too hard on any of the details, because he's a little bit worried by them if he's being honest. His dad grilled right into Noctis the moment he got a good look at him, left Prompto to do a fair turn of rescuing there. Then the luck came in, and they wound up here, which is all well and good but he's still got some questions. He's still got a lot of questions, really, and he's working through most of them internally right now, guessing at which he can ask right away, which he might have to tiptoe around a bit more. He ignores them all for those first few moments, when he balances a tray back to the seat Noctis has picked out and offers up the meal. He focuses on sunshine and brightness and all of the traits he's been told make him a bit of a magnetic force.

Maybe it's not all luck. He works hard at mustering up that persona. There's a fair bit of anxiety beneath it. There are those days where he can't bring himself to the shop, where he can't bring himself out of his room at all, for fear of a million different things. When he's on, he's on, and it'll drain him to the core, but it's him in the end. Prompto is making that choice, after all, to be the person he's presenting as. He's making that choice to smile, to ignore the tricky parts of his brain that like to send him spiraling a bit more often than he'd care to admit. And luck would have it- another good turn of it- that he's absolutely on the ball today, with the somewhat quiet, apparently shy, utterly gorgeous friend-of-Gladio's stumbled in on him.

"It's good, right?" more sunshine, after he's taken a few bites of his own sandwich, washed it back with a draw from a fancy- and admittedly overpriced- bottle of soda. He cocks his head, makes sure his eyes are appropriately wide, his expression encouraging and open. He's going for the charm, for certain 'cuteness' factor. He's trying, exceptionally carefully, to present as entirely carefree. He has to think it's working because he wins a little smile from his companion and a nod through a full mouth.

Prompto lets the silence sit between them while they work on their respective meals. He's waiting for it to grow awkward, to edge toward discomfort, but it doesn't quite get there. His head is churning over it, counting moments, a whole inner dialogue spouting silently, anticipating responses once he does work himself up to speak, ranking topics and questions and potential answers. He does all this while he chews, while he glances around the restaurant, while he looks at Noctis. He counts the seconds he holds his gaze there, looks away on the fifth heartbeat, returns attention to his food or to one of the posters that decorate the little hole-in-the wall. And he keeps his smile firmly in place, not too bright, as to imply some sort of desperation, or worse, questionable sincerity. A lot of things are shooting through Prompto's mind at any given moment, too many things really, and it all does take so much effort.

It's definitely worth the effort, of course. He's sitting in his favorite sandwich joint with a guy he's needing to make a very conscious effort to try and pry his eyes from, and they're hitting it off, from what Prompto can see. He'd absolutely notice if it weren't the case, too, he's sure of it. He takes every detail into consideration in situations like this. He watches body language and he listens to the tone in a simple statement. He gave Noctis an out, too, before dragging him out to lunch. Yeah, there's the usual, instinctive self-doubt under the layers of careful observation, but Prompto thinks he's doing pretty damn well here, thank-you-very-much. Well enough, in any case, that he feels like he can strike up conversation again. Unexpectedly comfortable as the silence might be, words are what win you second dates, and Prompto isn't ashamed to admit to himself that he's absolutely thinking about a second date already.

"So, how long you known the big guy for?" Prompto wonders briefly if it's the right question to ask, now that their tray is starting to hit the half-emptied point. Noctis glances up from his sandwich and their eyes catch, something that makes Prompto's heart stumble in his chest, makes his muscles go a little bit tense. There's something in those eyes, he swears it, something that catches him and pulls him in and makes it so damn hard to look anywhere else. There's hesitation too, though, and of course he wonders immediately if he's made the wrong move.

"Pretty much forever," the answer is short and simple and Prompto nods, though he definitely feels that he's taken the wrong path now. There isn't any follow-up at first and Noctis is quick enough to grab for some fries, keep his mouth busy with something other than speech. Prompto knows that his facade nearly falters here, but he lets his smile grow a little bit more instead, taps a little rhythm against the table to keep the silence from falling once more.

"Gonna hafta give him hell for not introducing us sooner then," he thinks it's a pretty smooth recovery, even if there's nothing to outwardly recover from. His mind is always filling in the blanks though, always reacting to situations as if they were a bit more dire than they may actually be. He definitely notices a twitch upward to Noctis's lips. A good sign, even if Noctis doesn't do much more than nod, make an affirmative noise. Even if that initial sign is good, though, it's enough silence to make Prompto begin to wonder, begin to question the situation.

It's always a hard balance for Prompto to find- exactly how much of the talking he should be doing. He has a tendency to start up and a difficulty in realizing when to stop, in pinpointing exactly when interest has been lost and he's descended into rambling. He doesn't think it's the situation here, not just yet, but he's keenly aware of the possibility and he makes another mental note- one on a stack of hundreds- to take care there. He needs, he decides very firmly, not to fuck this up. Easier said (or thought) than done, of course.

"Alright. I think it's only fair to ask, as the guy who conned you into getting lunch instead of a tattoo," Prompto pauses for a stretch of grin, a glimpse of reaction- positive again, with the way Noctis's eyes meet his- before posing his question, "you really have no idea at all what you want?" There might be a little bit more to that question, lying beneath the surface, but it's all incidental if so. Prompto's mostly amused, if anything. He might be digging, just subtly, to get a better understanding of the guy's personality. He's scanned him for any other pieces, but Noctis went with long sleeves despite the day's heat, dark jeans to match. Beside that fact, he looked nervous as hell when he was examining the flash, and he'd needed a recommendation to get to the shop anyway. Which makes him the type of guy who dives right in, doesn't it? The sort that knows what he wants, in a broad sense, maybe misses out on the details here and there. More likely, Prompto is putting far too much weight on a whim.

Prompto is surprised when, after a beat or two, Noctis lets out a little chuckle. Not a proper laugh, but a sound of amusement. He thinks it could be a sign that he's on the right track, but Prompto is starting to get muddled here, starting to lose the plot just a touch. Even with all his practice, with all his obsession over it, he's not always the best judge, not always great at reading people. He's finding pretty quickly that he's especially not great at reading Noctis, which is just another little thrill of anxiety to leave his pulse fluttering and his palms sweating both too much for him to justify.

"Is that weird? Don't people get tattoos they totally regret later all the time?" Noctis's tone is a little bit flat, bordering on disinterest. His eyes are caught on Prompto's again though and he clearly waits for a response. Yeah, Prompto is lost here, he has to admit it now. It's wreaking havoc on his nerves, even if it's a little bit enticing too. Definitely getting a nice, mysterious vibe here, that little bit of intrigue that makes Prompto want to know more, to dig a little bit deeper.

"Well, yeah. They usually think it's a really good idea at the time, though. Like, 'oh, wow, the logo from the King's Knight tie-in movie is pretty sweet'. Not, 'in like ten years, I'm gonna finally admit to myself that movie sucked and now I hafta explain this dumb thing to every dude I sleep with'. You don't go in expecting to regret it."

"Sounds like you're speaking from experience," Noctis smiles with the little jab and it makes Prompto laugh, shake his head, try to ignore the warmth in his cheeks. He considers spouting off on some tangent about just turning eighteen and having questionable judgment and the intricacies of regret. Instead, he quirks up an eyebrow and shrugs.

"Bet you'd like to know," he goes the flirtatious route instead, still aiming a bit of a jab right along with it. It's Noctis's turn to blush now and Prompto takes a fair amount of pride in being able to pull the reaction from him. His mind continues to spin, to swirl with any number of ways this could all go wrong, but luck is definitely with him today, he's sure of it. Things are turning out right. There's definitely a distinctly dad-like voice in the back of his head telling him to stop thinking so damn much.

"Kinda seems like I already do. You should probably be thanking me. Explaining later sounds like a real mood-killer," they share a laugh this time, and Prompto starts to feel just a touch more at ease. Noctis isn't any easier to read here. He feels like he's wavering back and forth, like there are two absolutely distinct parts to him, totally at odds, weighing each other out and fighting for dominance. It's nothing less than bizarre, a little bit bewildering, but it's not more than Prompto can handle. He's not gonna let it be more than he can handle.

"Now you're just trying to get me all flustered so you don't hafta answer the question. I'm totally on to you."

"Damn. Thought I'd gotten away with it for sure," Prompto is pleased by the way Noctis smiles through his reply. There's a beat of silence- three or four, to be a little bit more realistic- before he says anything else. Another one of those brief and comfortable quiets that makes it feel a lot less like they'd just met and a lot more like they're old friends. Prompto tries to work out the source of that silence. He decides that Noctis is coming up with some grand, clever answer to it all, that there will be a new joke and that he will need to be ready with another counter of his own. It doesn't turn out to be the case, though.

"Alright. I know I want something, and I know where. Just figured I'd work out the details there. You have all sorts of stuff on the walls, and you're the expert anyway," there's another pause in Noctis's words and Prompto can pick that one out easily enough as hesitation. His expression changes, too. The smile fades, and Prompto has to wonder if something landed wrong, if there was a mistake in his words somewhere, "I need a scar covered up. You can do that, right?"

The silence hits again, but this time it's a little bit less comfortable. Prompto can feel his smile slip away from him, just for a moment. There are more questions pressing behind his lips than he knows what to do with, ones he has to swallow back in order to formulate the right response. He looks Noct over again, and he considers the long sleeves, the long pants, tries to mentally pinpoint where the scar is, what needs so badly to be covered. He wants to ask, wants desperately to, but there was that change in tone, that obvious shift in demeanor and he can't quite bring himself to do it.

"Kinda. Maybe. I'd hafta see it. Working on scars is tricky. Ink takes differently, it can be hard to predict. And it's not really possible to make the scar go away, just by coloring over it. Doing it right is kinda like camouflage," Prompto is well-aware that he's at risk here of rambling, of following a tangent too far and losing track of what's at hand. And what's at hand is Noctis looking distinctly uncomfortable, maybe a little bit crestfallen. So Prompto makes a point of brightening himself up, just a little, focusing more on what positives he can pick out, "anyway, that actually means it's kinda a good thing you don't have a specific design in mind. We'll come up with something custom that works around it."

Noctis nods, but he's fallen entirely into that quiet now. Prompto doesn't push him over it this time, doesn't try to fill the space. It looks a hell of a lot like Noctis is thinking things over. There's a strange squeeze in the center of Prompto's chest while he watches the subtle changes in his face, while he wonders exactly what it is going through Noctis's mind. Scars are difficult. Those words are loud and clear and even more dad-voiced in his mind. His father is good with them, he has experience, he's probably a better choice for this work. Prompto is skilled, he's been taught and trained well, but he's young and he knows how easy these things are to screw up. Uncertainty is starting to sink in, heavy and painful claws giving that squeeze around his heart now.

"You can do that, though? Design something?" When Noctis finally speaks his tone has lifted just a touch. He sounds close to eager, and Prompto tries to feed into that energy. He gets a smile on his face that's properly genuine, or at least as close as can be hoped for with the way his mind is churning and his heart is strangely aching. He nods eagerly, before he manages to get the words out. He's confident in this much, at least, that if Noctis wants him to do this, he'll work it out. He'll talk to his dad, he'll study up, do whatever he needs to.

"Definitely. It'll be fun," he pauses though and he does make an admission, one that he thinks might hurt his prospects but one that he thinks is only fair to make, crucial even, "I've never done it before. With a scar, I mean. I can definitely design you something, but if you want someone else to do it-"

"-No," Noctis interrupts him and it's absolutely startling, makes Prompto's eyes go wide in a way that's more natural than purposefully inviting, "I mean, I've never had this done, so I won't know if you got it wrong anyway, right? Works out perfectly," this time when he smiles, it really is something else. It's not wide, or even overtly happy. There's a sort of trust there though, or at least Prompto puts that value to the expression, and it fills him with an unexpected bit of motivation. He's lacking in confidence, but he can bury that part. He's determined now, absolutely committed by that damn smile to get this right.

"Yeah, perfect," Prompto says, an agreement after a moment's pause. He considers his words only for a moment this time, dives directly in, "y'know, I should probably get to know you better, in that case. Can't really come up with my masterpiece when we've only known each other for an hour," he's inclined to brace himself, but Noctis's smile changes to an entirely pleasant one with the words.

"I’m pretty sure we can arrange that. Since you’re taking me on a second date and all,” there’s a little thrill there, something that Prompto doesn’t anticipate but something that he leans into, lets his smile break genuine and wide at. There’s definitely some luck on his side today, no two ways about it. After all, he’s pretty sure he’s made a mistake or two hundred in the brief conversations they’ve shared and still, a second date. Another confirmation that this strange attempt was a first one, “don’t hafta look so surprised. We had a wager, right? The sandwich was awesome,” and Noctis laughs, something fuller and genuine, smooth and refreshing and turning Prompto’s insides on themselves.

“Now you understand why it’s the go-to. That’s how I get ya,” it’s easier to joke, with the way Noctis’s mood has changed again. It’s all still tumultuous, spinning Prompto’s whole damn consciousness in circles. There’s a certain reliance upon instincts here that he’s never gotten the hang of, where all of his faux-confidence slips away and he has to actually rely on and even believe in himself. It’s a strange feeling, an unfamiliar and terrifying and invigorating one all at once.

“Here. Let me see your phone,” Noctis extends a hand across the table and makes a bit of a grabbing motion. Prompto’s face goes blank for just a moment, but he digs through his pocket and punches in his password with a surprisingly shaky hand. Then he watches, tries to lift himself a little, while Noctis thumbs through, makes a grinning point of hiding the screen from Prompto. There’s a pause, a tone that sounds from Noct’s pocket, and the phone slid back across the table, screen down, obscured. Prompto’s first instinct is to look, to see exactly what unspoken message was left there, but he shoves it into his pocket instead. He’s more interested, after all, in the Noctis sitting in front of him rather than behind the screen. For now, at least.

“Hope you’re not expecting a night of risque photos. I’m not into giving spoilers,” the teasing, the flirting, it’s coming a little bit easier even if Prompto’s pulse is pounding in his ears and there’s a particular warmth pressed in his pocket, attached to the idea of Noct’s fingers on the phone and Noct’s fingers on his thigh instead. He reminds himself not to think o that, not just yet. First date, and all. Still, Noctis is undeniably attractive, certainly aware of it, enticing to an absolute fault and it’s hard for Prompto not to let his mind wander just a little bit.

“Already crushing all my hopes and dreams, thanks a lot,” Prompto thinks, to be fair, that the fact that Noctis is moving to stand now is crushing a lot of his own hopes and dreams. He can’t, of course, spend an entire day out with him. He has responsibilities back at the shop, plans that can’t so easily be brushed aside. Still, he manages one of his more magnificent pouts.

“Hey, wait a second,” he knows he sounds just a bit too desperate here. He wants to think it won’t come across that way, but Prompto isn’t one for fooling himself in any positive terms. His mind is reeling while Noctis stares at him, expectant. He hasn’t come up with an excuse, but a thought strikes him and he blurts it immediately, “you came all the way to the shop and you don’t even have anything to show for it. Why don’t you let me, I dunno, pierce something,” he’s scrambling for something and it’s obvious enough. Noctis’s eyes widen a touch and a surprised sort of laughter passes his lips.

“I usually save punching holes in my body for at least the third date, y’know,” Prompto laughs at his response, though there is a sort of crestfallen feeling coupled with it. It must show through, because Noctis pauses a moment, seems to think about it, “besides, I’m kinda a boring guy. Don’t think I’d be any good with the flashy stuff in my face.”

“Doesn’t have to be in your face,” Prompto hears himself counter at once and he laughs quickly, turns his head away to obscure a certain flush that spread over freckled cheeks. He’s definitely not going to admit to picturing a defined plane of chest, adorned with some nice little rings. Absolutely not going to entertain anything lower, even if the thoughts are bubbling fresh and bright in his head, “I mean, I could just do your ear. Lots of guys go for that,” he follows up, only halfway in an effort to clear that pink tone from his face, to turn his offer a bit more innocent.

“I’ll think about it,” Noctis moves, closes a bit of the space between himself and Prompto with a quick step around the table. Prompto swears that just the proximity makes hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, makes his pulse double and his skin go all warm. Never mind when Noctis puts a hand on his arm, a gentle gesture, but a bit of contact that he can’t ignore, something of warmth and promise and a million thoughts in Prompto’s mind applying more meanings than necessary, more implications than truly exist, “in the meantime, you think about where you’re taking me this weekend. And I’ll think about how bored I am waiting desperately for your text.”

He flashes a smile. It’s that wide, open, toothy one that makes Prompto’s stomach do a flip, leaves him absolutely wordless while he nods, while he watches Noctis take his leave after a brief squeeze at Prompto’s bicep. They share a final glance when he reaches the door and he disappears, Prompto the sole victim to his whirlwind. And a whirlwind, really and truly, is what Prompto thinks Noctis is. He’s definitely swept through him, left a proper little disaster in his wake. Prompto, in fact, is left standing slack-jawed and bordering on helpless, blank stare at the door, a few moments too long after Noctis has disappeared beyond it.

His senses still haven’t entirely calmed when he makes his way through that same door, beginning a slow walk back up those few blocks to the shop. His mind is a million places at once, though that much is far from unusual for him. Prompto is pretty damn accustomed to over thinking, getting lost in his thoughts, losing the pacing and missing a beat and stumbling- both metaphorically and, a little bit too often, literally- on his face for all the effort. The walk back to the shop is all ducked head and hands shoved deep into his pockets while he tries to work through what, exactly, just happened. It’s a strange smile that keeps tugging at his lips, too, a warmth in the middle of his chest that just keeps spreading, tingling through him, lifting his spirits more than they have any right to be.

A jolt runs through him, now within eyeshot of Lion Heart’s storefront, when his phone buzzes against a pocketed fist, gives off a barely-audible but telltale ‘kweh’ of a text notification. The jolt reminds him of the work Noctis was doing with his phone, the cheeky expression when he slid it back against the table. Prompto fumbles in his hurry to fish the device from his pocket and take a look. His breath catches, the notification lit on his screen displaying a new message from ‘Noct’ with a fair number of heart-shaped emojis on either side. Another bit of fumbling, nearly dropping the whole damn thing, when he punches in his lock code to read the message proper.

The first message, the one that was intended to save the contact and was sent from Prompto’s own phone, is a string of emojis- three eggplants in a row, a peach, splashing water. It’s enough to make Prompto lose himself in laughter, pause and lean against the brick entryway rather than make his way directly into the shop. The second text makes him smile as well, as the laughter finally quiets. A simple reminder that he is now awarded a date, and he’d better make it a good one. Prompto taps a, ‘bet your ass it will be’ in response before he shoves the phone back into his pocket and shoulders his way back into the shop.

He enters to relative silence. No hum of tattoo gun in the back, no sound at all, really, other than the low house music they run on. Prompto knows he’s smiling a little bit too wide, a little too easily. He’s waiting for Cor to say something from behind the counter, really, when he plops himself down on one of the torn-up leather chairs forming a waiting area nearby. It takes a moment for Prompto to recognize the look on his father’s face, for his own expression to fall and a bit of worry to grip at him.

Cor doesn’t yell, not really. Maybe here and there, when Prompto fucks up big time, but even then it’s usually not an actual fight. There’s still an instinct, though, something that Prompto thinks must have been bred into him, maybe learned in his infancy before he had a father who made a point not to yell or fight unless it was really and properly deserved. It’s an instinct to run, or to cower away. It’s an instinct to be afraid, anxious, flighty, anything that will save him a difficult situation. Probably a character flaw, he knows, and an entirely undeserved one. Still, his shoulders sink and Prompto is making himself small in that seat.

“Keeping busy without me, huh?” Prompto tries for a little bit of light-hearted greeting, but he knows it fails. He knows that his voice is just a little bit shaky. Cor’s expression softens a touch and he leans against the counter, even offers something close to a smile. There are a lot of things that Cor will push him on. He expects dedication and commitment and hard work. He demands respect. He doesn’t, however, challenge that inexplicable sort of fear that Prompto is inclined to at the first sign of trouble. He doesn’t question that deep-seated need to please, or the terror of disappointment, and maybe that’s why there aren’t real fights, there isn’t real yelling. Somehow, it still doesn’t manage to calm Prompto’s nerves. Never really has.

“As always. How was lunch?” Even if he’s being pleasant, there’s a certain tone to his voice. Prompto doesn’t know how to take it, because he knows that tone well and it’s not the one he expected. It isn’t a disappointment over some vital chore Prompto’s mistakenly neglected. It isn’t frustration from one of the occasional customer complaints that might have been avoided with a little bit of reasoning. It’s the Dad Voice. No, it’s not just the Dad Voice. It’s the Concerned Dad Voice. Prompto almost groans. He’s bracing himself for a different sort of impact now.

“Good,” Prompto is careful with his response. His eyes and his voice and his whole damn demeanor is suspicious. He knows what’s coming. Rather, he knows the gist of what’s coming. What’s actually coming, from what angle, and why, those are still mysteries. He’s mentally leafing through their past few interactions, trying to pinpoint exactly what life lesson he’s in for today, but nothing is coming to mind. It’s disconcerting. It’s a little bit terrifying. Prompto shifts in the chair, leans heavily against the rest and works his thumbnail against well-worn leather. A nice, simple distraction. An easy nervous habit.

“And your friend?” That’s what it’s about? Prompto frowns here, and his expression is definitely turning to confusion. He’s skipped out to lunch with friends before. Hell, he’s skipped out to lunch with potential boyfriends more than once. And more than lunch, at that. Cor tends to make a point of keeping his nose out of that particular part of Prompto’s life, beyond the occasional word of advice before a date or box of condoms left conspicuously behind the counter. He doesn’t ask about who Prompto’s going out with. Really, Prompto doesn’t think he cares. Prompto is grown, after all, a man in his twenties. His dad doesn’t really need to concern himself with his casual dates.

“He’s nice. We had a good time. What’s with you?” his voice is a little bit sharp, which is very likely the exact wrong tactic here. Cor doesn’t pounce on it, doesn’t even scold him though. Instead, he sighs, and he steps from behind the counter. Prompto realizes, watching his father make a slight limp to sit on the couch opposite him, that he wishes this was more scolding. Whatever conversation is coming, he’s pretty damn sure he doesn’t want to have it.

“Prompto,” there’s that tone again, that fatherly concern. It’s written all over him, just the way Prompto is wearing his own anxiety. There’s a pause after the sound of his name, pregnant and halting and as uncomfortable as everything else, “listen. I trust your judgment, you know that. And I support you, no matter what,” oh, this really is a concerned dad talk. Prompto is absolutely squirming in his seat. There’s a sound between a whine and a groan and there’s a nod, a mumbled sort of ‘yessir’ while he waits for Cor to continue.

“You’re a grown man. I’m not going to tell you what to do,” exactly the sort of words, Prompto thinks, that someone says before they tell you what to do, “but I want you to be careful with him. I’m not talking about the normal sort of careful,” Prompto is definitely frowning now, and he thinks back again. He plays the conversation between Noct and his father in his mind, and his stomach begins to go tight, his skin a little bit hot and cold. There was recognition there, on some level. Prompto shifts again, tries to avoid the uncomfortable sensation if his heart suddenly thumping wild against his ribs.

“It was just lunch, dad. Gladio sent him in. It’s no big deal…”

“I saw you looking at him,” Cor counters the dismissal at once. Prompto, in times like these, really wishes he was in possession of some sort of mask. He’s too prone to wearing his heart on his sleeve. It works out for him, when luck is on his side, but it seems like luck went off somewhere in the vague direction of the Citadel some minutes earlier, “what has Gladio told you?”

“Nothing. I mean, he mentioned maybe sending me a client, but that’s it. What… I don’t get this. What’s going on? You know him, right? Just say whatever it is you wanna say, ‘cause I really don’t know what you’re getting at,” he’s irritable now, though mostly out of concern, that familiar anxiety. And a horrible feeling of excitement, anticipation, happiness turning to dust in front of him so easily.

“I know about him. I knew his father,” Knew. There’s something in that word that makes Prompto’s brows furrow, makes his breath catch a little. There’s something in all of this that makes him so damn uneasy, makes him wish the conversation was over, “listen. I’m not suggesting you avoid him, but I want you to be careful, Prompto. If you like him, that’s fine. I just want you to be careful. I don’t want to see you getting hurt.”

“I’m not gonna get hurt, dad,” there’s a pause before Prompto makes this assurance and another before he speaks again. He’s almost inclined to push the issue, to ask for more details. There was a hint in there, about Gladio, almost an unspoken encouragement for Prompto to take initiative on that route. He’s considering that, more than he’s considering pressing his father for whatever information he seems privy to. His thumbnail cuts across the leather, scores little lines in it, “I’ll be careful. Promise. Might be helpful if I knew what to be careful about, though.”

“Maybe nothing. It’s...just a feeling I have. Maybe I’m wrong. I just want you to keep your guard up. I know you, Prompto, and I know how quick you like to dive in. I’m just saying, you should take your time with this one. That’s all,” Prompto wants to say that he’s relieved by the way Cor says the words, the finality to the statement. The warning, however, is vague and it’s menacing. It’s just enough information to make him wonder, little enough to make his mind go a million different directions, to make him obsessively recount that first date, search for signs, question every damn word they shared.

“Okay,” Prompto shifts again, abandons his work at half-carving shapes into the arm of the chair, pushes himself up to his feet, “I’m gonna go finish cleaning up, alright?” he nods toward the hall before he starts in that direction, waits for Cor’s silent nod before he turns away. It’s a relief when he makes it into his studio room, gets the door shut behind him, sits himself on the little rolling stool. He propels himself with both heels, so he can plant his back against the wall. The lights are harsh in here and there is still plenty to clean after his pre-lunch client. It was a touch irresponsible to leave everything in this state, he knows.

That doesn’t stop him from fishing his phone out again, though, to shoot a message at Gladio before he sets to work:

‘Call me. ASAP.’

CHASING SUNS: Chapter 6 Flesh Wounds

1,837 words FINA-FUCKING-LY, MY DUDES. Sheesh. 

The naga hunt was located near the Disc of Cauthess, the impact site of a meteorite from generations ago. More than once Cam considered turning the truck around, after all the drive was a long one, but then her side would flare up as flashbacks of Gladio and Steph rapid-fire assaulted her concentration and she’d give it more gas, reaching speeds well over the posted limit. Not like anyone would pull her over.

Self preservation was absent tonight. Cam knew somewhere in the deep recess of her psyche that what she was taking on could result in major injury; getting killed was also in the cards. Regardless, she had to do this. Even if it offered her tormented mind a moment’s release, it was enough.

Cam pulled over at the dead end of the access road and scanned through the flyer again, the flashlight held between her teeth. She plotted out a route using the map on her phone, shouldered her ammo pack and headed out into the endless night.

Fucking woman has a lead foot, Gladio thought as he pushed the Jeep to its limits, the boxy vehicle whipping around tight turns so hard he had to lean upright to counter the steer. He’d only caught sight of her taillights further back, and even then they were blurry at best. There was also another key issue; He didn’t know the exact location. Sure he’d review the hunt details before, considered starting a hunting party to go claim the bounty, but the specifics were foggy. All he could recall was that it nested near the Disc, but at which side? There was a gravelled access road to the south that didn’t appear on most map sites. His gut instinct told him she’d probably never known about the unmarked path, so he turned off onto the main exit.

The wrong exit.

Cam wove through the brambles and dead foliage, startled by the absolute silence that made the crack and snapping of twigs under her boots almost deafening. She could just make out an end to the treeline up ahead, an open field on the other side. She checked her phone’s GPS; it was close.

Having reached the edge of the small clearing she skirted the perimeter and checked for any telltale signs of the daemonic snake. A thick fog hung low in the air, a miasma of foreboding and warning. The long-since dead grass lay flat against the earth in spots, curving patterns cutting through sections leaving random tufts in patches. It had definitely come through here.

Checking her six, she withdrew her pistols, safety off.

Gladio reached the end of the road, concern creasing his forehead as he rounded the last turn. Lady luck missed role call; her truck was nowhere to be found. Still he pulled up to the dead-end street sign, killed the ignition and got out.

His hearing wasn’t top notch but after several seconds of silence, six consecutive gunshots echoed in the distance to the south, closer to the Disk. After a pause, another five shots, and then…

A horrifying scream cut the darkness, female and brimming with pain. Then silence.

NO-

Gladio panicked and bolted back to the Jeep, pulse frantic in his head as he threw the driver’s side door open and was driving off before he shut it, white-knuckling the steering wheel as he whipped the Jeep around, his soulmate marking seared to the bone.

As expected when he reached the end of the access road, her truck lay abandoned on the shoulder. He pulled up behind it and all but leaped from the vehicle, taking off headstrong into the trees without forethought. It was too goddamn quiet. His insides did back flips and he began to second-guess his sense of direction. He had no indication where she was, only a scream from across the forest to go on. Yet at the same time, he knew exactly where to go, the path leading towards the edge of the woods. He could make out an open space up ahead.

Gladio entered the clearing and the world stopped moving.

Several yards away, Cam’s body lay in a crumpled crescent facing away from him, motionless. Still.

His knees faltered, feeling like the ground was giving way to swallow him whole. It might as well have for the sight before him was shattering his soul, his sanity, slivers of his being spilled between the cracks, out of reach. The edges of his vision greyed out and the sun at his hip hardwired pain to his chest, like connecting to a car battery.

He approached her, each step daggers to his heart as he neared her broken form, the person assigned to him by the Astrals, this stranger who he’d let go on for far too long not knowing a thing about, all because he was afraid, afraid of the unknown, afraid of caring, afraid of who he was...He cursed himself as he hunched down to turn her over on her back, leaning her shoulders against his thighs.

Her face was expressionless, tranquil, save for the angry vertical red gash spanning above her left brow straight down her cheek, abruptly ending at the soft edge of her jawline. Blood mixed with tears and smeared in the socket corner of her eye and Gladio lifted a hand to wipe it away, as gentle as he could muster with his calloused fingertips.

Without warning her eyes flicked open, lashes brushing his digits as two pools of molten copper knocked the breath from his lungs. In this proximity of her being, her soul, her life...Like finding the missing piece to a jigsaw puzzle you started ages ago and left out, too invested to disassemble it and start over until that piece turned up where you least expected it to.

The corners of her mouth twitched upwards into the slightest smile possible against her tawny, chapped lips.

For the first time in twenty-five years of life, his heart skipped a beat.

Weakness was not an option, despite how easily her stare induced it. “Just what do you think you were doing?” He growled, a pang of regret in is throat as her smile disappeared in an instant.

Though not impart from his tone, as her eyes flicked from his to the side, fear shrinking her pupils. Her jaw quivered as she whispered. “Behind you...”

He could sense it, the movement, the shift in the air. Gladio froze in place. Sure enough the telltale hisssss curdled his blood. He had to act fast, think later. He leaned forward and hooked an arm under Cam’s legs and another around her back, hoisting her up. She winced but didn’t protest. The hiss from behind grew louder, more animated.

One shot, that’s all he had. It was this or their lives.

Gladio inhaled, gripped Cam close, and launched up into a sprint towards the trees. The naga roared with enough guttural force to make the ground tremor as it made pursuit of its prey. A viscous, hot liquid spat at him and Gladio changed course slightly, veering more to the left to avoid the assault of venomous acid. Cam locked her arms around his neck, clutching to him for dear life, her head tucked into his chest.

A whooshing sound caught Gladio off guard and he turned his head, but the incoming tail whip from the naga swept and disconnected his feet from the ground and they fell hard, Cam rolling her shoulder in the process. She cursed through her teeth as she scrambled back, the naga setting it’s sights on Gladio, who had his back turned. Cam located one of her pistols and flicked the safety off, aimed for the naga’s face, and fired, over and over.

The naga reeled back in response, it’s agonizing throes shaking the trees surrounding the clearing. Cam became the primary target. Good, she thought, better me than him.

Cam reached into her ammo pack...one clip left. She must have lost some in the scuffle. Shit.

The naga was rearing back, fangs exposed and poised to attack, preparing for the kill.

Not today. Not yet.

She unlocked the spent clip, slammed the ammo in the chamber, took a deep breath and emptied her weapon into the daemon’s face.

All ten rounds pierced through the naga’s right eye, one right after the other in perfect succession. It jerked, brain riddled with lead, swayed drunkenly to the side before its body slammed into the earth, the last seconds of life twitching out violently.

She did it. She’d downed one of the most difficult hunts possible, thanks to a little luck and fierce aim. Cam blinked, still trying to convince herself the beast was dead yet there it was, slumped over in the dead grass, its pockmarked humanoid face spilling blood. Without hesitation, she pulled out her phone, took a few pictures of her kill for good measure and slid it in her back pocket.

Gladio seemed at a loss for words. He exhaled, turning over to stand upright above her. “Stupid, dumb luck,” he finally mused, admonishment in his tone. “Could’a gotten yourself killed!”

Despite his words, he held out a hand for Cam to take. She pursed her lips; he was raining on her parade. She took his hand and he pulled her up without any effort.

The draw was back with a vengeance, almost impossible to resist. It didn’t help that he was so close, that he hadn’t let go of her hand yet. His skin was hot, she could almost feel their pulses synch into rhythm -

Gladio dropped her grasp, his arm jerking back as if he touched a hot stove element. Before she could question it, he pointed to the left side of her face. “You’re bleeding, we gotta get you back and have Dino look at it.”

Cam frowned, gently testing the gouged skin. It stung. “That bad?”

“Probably need stitches.”

“Great.”

When they got back to the vehicles, Gladio stepped in front of her and barred access to the driver’s side of Greyson’s truck. “Excuse me?”

He shook his head. “Nuh uh. You aren’t driving with a fucked up eye. Not safe.”

“My eye is fine,” Cam groaned. Why’d he have to make this difficult? “It’s only a flesh wound.”

Gladio scoffed, crossing his muscular arms. “Not the first time I’ve heard someone say that…”

“Pardon?”

“Nevermind,” He moved passed her towards his Jeep. “You’re coming with me. I don’t trust your word and I’d rather not pull you from a wrecked vehicle. Only get one life saving per day.”

Cam chuckled dryly. “That so? Well this isn’t my truck, so you’ll have to figure out how to get it back to HQ.”

“If the doc clears you, I’ll bring you back here to pick it up myself.” His tone was sincere; he’d follow through.

Sighing, Cam ensured the truck was locked before circling around the passenger’s side of the Jeep and hopped in as Gladio turned the ignition.

“Buckle up, naga slayer.”

[prompto/noctis] breaking free

~4k / high school musical fic (YEP.)

from the kink meme: Noctis and Prompto audition for the spring musical.

ao3: [x]

-

Noctis is tempted to ditch school altogether for the next two months. Give his theater teacher Ms. Clemens some excuse about absolutely necessary princely duties requiring his attention, then wish her and all the rest of the class good luck in getting the spring production finished without him. There are plenty of other students available, he’s certain they’d be able to manage it. But that would mean failing the final semester of his theater elective class. And even worse, Prompto would be bummed if Noctis wasn’t there. Not bumming Prompto out is pretty high on Noctis’ list of Things He Considers of Greatest Importance, so he suffers through reading the play, suffers through all the students practicing their singing in the hallways, and suffers through all the whispers and giggles about who gets to play opposite Noctis in whatever part their dear Prince of Lucis lands. Well, they’re gonna be pretty disappointed, Noctis thinks, as he makes his way out of the classroom after the bell rings and signs his name on the sheet for “Props/Set Design” and vows never to set foot in front of an audience. - “You don’t even want to try auditioning?” Prompto says, during a day in class where they’ve all been assigned to make posters advertising the spring musical and the upcoming auditions. Noctis shakes his head, carefully painting flower designs around the word SPRING in red. “Wow, that looks really nice, Noct,” Prompto says over his shoulder, to which Noctis says a quiet, “Thanks.” “You know what else you’re really good at besides painting flowers?” Prompto continues. “Singing.” “Hey,” Noctis hisses, “no one knows about that, alright?” “Well I do, and I think the rest of the world is seriously missing out.” “The world?” “Well, the school, Insomnia, all of Lucis. You know the whole country’d turn up if they knew their prince was going to be in a musical.” “All the more reason to save the school from the embarrassment.” “Aw, come on, Noct.” Prompto drops into a chair beside the desk Noctis is working on to meet Noctis’ downturned gaze. “You’re good. And I know you actually like singing.” Noctis sighs as he rounds out the last petal of a flower, then drops his brush back into the cup of red paint on the desk. “I don’t know, Prom. It’s just—it’s just not me.” Prompto is quiet for a moment. Then he reaches out and places a hand, warm, on Noctis’ shoulder. “Alright, dude,” he says, “I’m not gonna force you to do anything you don’t want to, but for the record: I think you’d make the spring musical a thousand times better than it usually is.” Prompto pats his shoulder one more time before standing up and returning to his own poster on his desk. Noctis doesn’t say anything, just mulls over Prompto’s words as he picks up the brush and gets back to painting. - Noctis’ interest in singing is something he takes great pains in keeping strictly to himself and away from the rest of the world. Prompto is allowed to know because, well, he’s Prompto and Noctis likes him. And it’s hard to keep secrets when Prompto is over at Noctis’ place more often than he’s at his own: it only took one slip in Noctis’ normally carefully maintained vigilance, and Prompto had walked in on Noctis singing passionately along to a rock CD he borrowed from Gladio. Prompto hadn’t said anything at first, only jumped in with an air guitar and joined Noctis in singing, “OOOHH, WE’RE HALFWAY THERE—” Once the song ended and the adrenaline passed and mortification began creeping up in its stead, Noctis had said, “Please don’t tell anyone that I sing.” Prompto said, “Dude, of course your secret is safe with me.” Noctis was pretty sure, in that moment, that Prompto is his favorite person in the whole world. But that was beside the point. The point is: Noctis doesn’t like to sing in public. Even when the sheet music for the upcoming musical starts being passed around in preparation for auditions, even when Noctis hears his classmates humming the tunes or tapping a melody out on the class piano, even when he thinks the songs aren’t half bad and are actually kind of catchy, he refuses to take part and firmly keeps his mouth shut. On the actual audition day, Noctis keeps well away from center stage, instead staying backstage with Prompto and finishing painting the cardboard tree they’ve been assigned to make. Prompto mostly ignores all the singing and dancing occurring onstage and sleeps in the inside cavity of the fake tree, while Noctis paints the leaves and experimentally pokes dots of green paint on Prompto’s arm, seeing if he’ll wake up (he doesn’t). The last person to audition finishes singing through the designated audition song, ending on a high, trilling note that makes Noctis wince, both in slight pain and sympathy at the cringe on Ms. Clemens’ face. “Thank you so much, Diana,” she says, scribbling something down on her notebook with a grim expression. “The audition results will be up within the week.” After the student walks offstage, she asks, “Is anyone else here to audition?” Silence. Ms. Clemens looks around her, double checking that all who intended to audition have done so. “Even if you didn’t sign the sheet, we have time for last minute auditions.” Noctis pauses in his painting and takes a look at the stage. He’s glad Prompto is asleep—were he awake, he may have done something stupid like goad Noctis into getting up there, into singing in front of all these people, however sparsely populated the auditorium currently is. He squeezes his hand around the brush handle, and for a brief, unthinking second, he opens his mouth to say something. “That concludes the auditions, then,” Ms. Clemens says, snaps her notebook closed, and rises from her seat. Noctis closes his mouth, exhaling a breath he had been holding in his chest. Despite not auditioning in the first place, he can’t help but feel rejected somehow. End of auditions means end of class period, so Noctis nudges Prompto awake. “What happened?” Prompto says quickly, snapping to alertness and sitting up so abruptly the tree nearly topples over before Noctis grabs it with his hands. “Nothing,” Noctis says, steadying the tree. “Auditions are over.” “Oh.” Prompto looks around him at the steadily emptying backstage area as students begin putting away supplies and props and heading to their next class. “D’you sing?” “Of course not,” Noctis says, reaching a hand out to help Prompto onto his feet. “Why would I?” Prompto shrugs. “Just in case you changed your mind.” Noctis says nothing at that. As they start walking across the stage to where the stairs are, they pass by the piano set up by the stage for the auditionees to sing along to. The pianist had already left in a hurry to get to her next class, but in her haste, she must have forgotten some of the sheet music. Noctis wanders over to it, ignoring Prompto’s curious, “Noct?” It’s the music for the audition song, expectedly. Noctis doesn’t know what possesses him to take a seat at the piano and scan his eyes over the sheet music, what makes him poise his hands over the keys and play a slow, hesitant rendition of the song he’s heard ten times over in the last hour. When Prompto comes to stand beside the piano and lean against it as he plays, Noctis tells himself it’s the assurance that it’s just Prompto here and no one else that encourages him to part his lips, and sing. “It’s hard to believe that I couldn’t see… you were always there beside me,” he sings tentatively. “Thought I was alone,” Prompto joins with a grin, “with no one to hold… But you were always right beside me.” Prompto’s not a bad singer, either. Even though he’s smiling amusedly as he sings, Noctis thinks their voices sound kind of nice together, and it pulls a smile onto his own face as he sings through the rest of the song. It’s different like this—not just him and his showerhead, not just the secrecy of the inside of his apartment, but on a real stage, with his voice echoing and ringing through the gaping expanse of the auditorium. Noctis can almost imagine people sitting in the seats, watching, and thinks maybe it wouldn’t be so bad being heard by the rest of the world. “So lonely before I finally found… what I’ve been looking for.” His fingers linger on the last chord of the song, his voice and Prompto’s voice fading into silence. “Noctis, Prompto,” comes the sudden voice of Ms. Clemens. Noctis whips his head around towards the entrance of the auditorium, where their theater teacher stands with a smile on her face. “Callbacks are next Friday,” she says. “Can we expect to see you two there?” Noctis is too stunned to say anything, suddenly unable to find his voice. Prompto seems to realize Noctis isn’t going to answer, so he says, “You sure can, Ms. Clemens, we’ll be there!” Noctis shoots him a look that Prompto ignores in favor of waving goodbye to the teacher, who leaves the auditorium looking satisfied. “Prompto!” Noctis bursts when she’s gone. “Dude!” “Come on, Noct! Just one callback, okay?” “I don’t—” Noctis sputters, feeling very overwhelmed and a little faint. “I-I—” “Hey Noct, calm down, okay buddy?” Prompto grabs Noctis’ hands, taking slow, deep breaths for Noctis to follow. Noctis does, with some effort, staring at Prompto with uncertainty. “Listen, it’s just one song, I’m sure there won’t be any more people than there were today, and I’ll be there with you, okay? You’re not gonna do it alone.” “You’ll be there?” Noctis says tentatively. Prompto nods firmly, emphasizing it by squeezing Noctis’ hands. If Prompto is going to be there too, then maybe, just maybe, Noctis can do this. - “I can’t do this.” “Okay,” Prompto says, “what is it that freaks you out?” They’re at Noctis’ apartment, sheet music spread out messily on Noctis’ coffee table next to Prompto’s phone they’re using to play the accompanying track they need. Noctis slumps onto the couch beside Prompto, and sighs with a weariness that comes straight from the soul. Prompto says, “Wow, Mr. Tortured Artist.” Noctis pokes Prompto’s side in the exact place he knows Prompto hates because it’s extra ticklish. “Hey!” Prompto yelps and bats his hand away. “Anyway, what are you thinking when you’re up onstage that makes you nervous?” “I don’t know…” Noctis begins, running a hand through his hair. “I just… see everyone staring at me, waiting for me to do something, and I just—” Noctis opens his hands out in front of him, staring at his palms. “Freeze.” Prompto nods sympathetically, patting his hand against Noctis’ knee. “Well, the lights will probably make it hard for you to see, if that makes you feel better? You probably won’t see past the first few rows.” “That’s still a few more rows of people than I’m comfortable singing in front of.” “Just don’t look at them, okay? Look at, like, the back wall of the auditorium or something.” “I guess,” Noctis mumbles. “Or, you know what,” Prompto says, “I’ll be up on stage with you, so just look at me.” Noctis raises an eyebrow. “Stare at you for the whole song?” “Sure, why not? I’m the only one you’re comfortable singing in front of, right?” That makes Noctis flush a little, the simple way that Prompto says it. But it’s the truth. “Y-Yeah.” “So just look at me.” Prompto smiles. “Come on, let’s practice.” Prompto stands and tugs at Noctis arm for him to stand up, too. He picks up two sheets of paper from the coffee table and hands one to Noctis, then reaches for his phone to press play on the accompaniment. “Ready?” he asks. Noctis nods. Just before the music starts, he closes his eyes and pictures himself onstage. The usual fear comes immediately, icy and sharp in his stomach. But then he thinks about turning away from the endless eyes of the audience and looking at Prompto instead, smiling, encouraging. The fear thaws, dissipates. When Noctis opens his eyes, Prompto is the first thing he sees. His eyes are blue as summer, and vibrant. “Eyes on me, okay?” Prompto reminds him, as if Noctis can look away. This time, singing comes easily—Noctis looks at Prompto and doesn’t think about the stage, the people who will be watching, or that this is an audition and a part in the play was on the line. All Noctis thinks about is how happy it makes him to sing with Prompto, how it doesn’t matter if anyone else is watching because he can do anything, as long as he has Prompto at his side. The song ends, and Prompto’s smile is so bright it’s nearly blinding. “That was amazing, Noct!” Prompto says, bouncing with excitement. Noctis can’t help but smile back. “You were pretty good, too.” “Not as good as you though, dude, you’re gonna crush this audition.” Prompto slings an arm around Noctis’ neck, tugging him in for a one-armed hug. The warmth of his body radiates through Noctis’ shirt. “Hey, hey,” Prompto says, suddenly thinking of something. “I’ve also heard that, when you’re really nervous onstage, it can help if you imagine the audience in their underwear.” That only succeeds in making Noctis think of Prompto in his underwear, which has his face heating up so fast Prompto exclaims worriedly about getting Noctis a glass of water. - On callback day, Noctis chews through an entire box of Tic Tacs by the end of second period. At the start of the third, he opens a new box. “You’re gonna get a stomachache, Noct,” Prompto tells him. “Don’t care,” Noctis says around a mouthful of the mint candies. “It’s either this, or bite my nails.” “You’re gonna be fine.” Prompto pats Noctis’ hand. The touch is just comforting enough to make Noctis put away the rest of the Tic Tacs. When the final bell of the day rings, Noctis can’t help but think it sounds a little like a death knell. The halls are flooded with students heading home; Noctis and Prompto have to walk against the flow of people to head towards the auditorium on the far side of campus. Prompto tugs at Noctis’ hand and says, “Come on, let’s try and get there early so we can practice a little.” He doesn’t let go during the entire walk there and Noctis is silently thankful. When they push through the doors of the auditorium, it’s empty. Callbacks aren’t for another thirty minutes, but Noctis is glad for this one moment of peace and solitude before his imminent death. “Dude,” Prompto says as they walk towards the stairs that lead onto the stage, “you look like you’re walking to your execution.” “That’s what it feels like,” Noctis mutters. There’s no Ms. Clemens here to berate them for it, so they sit together on the edge of the stage, their feet dangling over the orchestra pit. Prompto says nothing for a moment, just gazing out at the empty auditorium seats. Then he says, “You can still back out if you want. No hard feelings.” Noctis blinks, surprised. Prompto smiles, bumping Noctis with his elbow. “It’s your choice, okay? I’m here for you no matter what you do.” Noctis doesn’t know what to say, so he looks down at his shoes, instead. Prompto continues, “But if you want to know what I think: I think you love singing and that you’d really like the chance to sing with all you’ve got. I don’t think you would have practiced for a whole week, otherwise.” Prompto leans in so their shoulders touch, and his voice drops a little as if telling a secret. He says, “Also, I really like singing with you.” That startles an unnamable emotion out of Noctis, making him feel fluttery in his stomach for reasons other than nerves. Noctis’ lips curve into a small smile, and he says, “I like singing with you, too.” Prompto’s smile turns into a grin. “We got this, Noct.” - They stay backstage as the auditions go on. Noctis says it’s so they can practice, but mostly he doesn’t want to see who’s come to watch. He was kind of looking forward to seeing the other performances, but the moment Ms. Clemens had walked into the auditorium and auditions began, icy barbs of anxiety shot through Noctis so quickly, it was all he could do to pull Prompto backstage for some solitude. “Deep breaths okay, Noct?” Prompto says to him, hands on Noctis’ shoulders. “Just relax. We practiced, we can do this.” From beyond the curtains, they can hear Ms. Clemens’ voice say, “Noctis, Prompto. You’re up.” Noctis looks at Prompto, who gives him a firm nod and a squeeze to his shoulders. Together, they walk into the spotlight. The auditorium is much, much fuller than it was during the initial round of auditions, thanks to Noctis’ reputation, no less. There are gasps when he steps out, excited whisperings and giggles. There are still students slipping in through the auditorium doors, eager to see their prince. Noctis freezes. “This is unprecedented,” Ms. Clemens says to them, looking amused. “I sincerely hope you two are alright with an audience.” Noctis barely hears her, unable to register much else besides the curious gazes of everyone in the crowd. Prompto pushes him forward so he’s standing more center stage. Noctis realizes a microphone has been put in his hands, that the lighting on the stage is turning a little bluer and darker in preparation for their number. When the opening chords start, just as he’s memorized through hours and hours of practice, Noctis stares out at the endless expanse of waiting, watching eyes, and opens his mouth. Nothing comes out. Noctis’ hands feel numb, cold; the fear is back and this time, it won’t let go. The music stops. Prompto is suddenly in front of him, touching Noctis’ shoulder and guiding him to look away from the audience and towards him instead. “Noct,” Prompto says gently. “There are too many people here,” Noctis says with a shaky voice. “I can’t—I can’t do it.” “Hey,” Prompto says, stepping further between Noctis and the audience. “Just like we practiced, remember? Don’t think about anyone else here right now. Just look at me, okay? Just me.” His fingers touch Noctis’ chin, tilting his head so their gazes meet. When Noctis sees the familiar blue of his eyes, he begins to feel a tentative, fledgling grasp at calm. Like he always does when Prompto looks at him. Prompto turns to nod once at the pianist, and the music starts up again. He lifts his microphone to his lips. “We’re soaring,” he sings, softly. “Flying. There’s not a star in heaven that we can’t reach.” He lifts his hand towards the twinkling lights strung up on the stage, like so many stars. He gives Noctis an encouraging look. Noctis breathes, and sings, “If we’re trying, so we’re breaking free.” Prompto smiles and reaches out for Noctis’ hand. Noctis takes it. “You know the world can see us—in a way that’s different than who we are.” “Creating space between us… ‘Til we’re separate hearts.” They let go, Noctis’ fingers brushing against Prompto’s in a lingering touch. Their voices join together, entwining, harmonizing in a way that makes Noctis’ heart feel light. “But your faith, it gives me strength—strength to believe...” Prompto grins, and punches the air with energy when he sings, “We’re breaking free!” They jump into the chorus with smiles on their faces, and Noctis forgets that anyone else is watching. Right now, it’s just him and Prompto and the music. Noctis sings with all the love and passion that he’s hidden inside himself for as long as he can remember, pulled out of him by the one person in the world who accepts him for who he is, and who he wants to be. As the song nears its end, Prompto and Noctis come to one another at the center of the stage, the lights focusing on them. They grasp hands as, together, they sing, “You know the world can see us—in a way that’s different than who we are.” The music fades out. The rest of the world comes back into focus; the sound of cheering and applauding reaches Noctis’ ears like a crashing wave. He looks and people are on their feet, clapping and hollering praises. Noctis feels breathless. He turns to Prompto, and Prompto is looking at Noctis and clapping for him too, smiling wide and bright. His cheeks are flushed from exertion, blond hair sticking to his forehead. Noctis thinks he looks beautiful. He leans forward and presses his lips to Prompto’s cheek. When he pulls away, Prompto is bright red all the way to his ears, his mouth dropped open. Noctis grins at him, feeling freer than he has in a long time. He reaches out for Prompto’s hand and says, “You’re supposed to bow.” “Oh!” Prompto stammers, abruptly turning to face the audience. Hand in hand, they take a bow. - “Think you’re ready to be the leading man?” Prompto asks during lunch period, when he and Noctis are sitting beneath the shade of one of the trees in the schoolyard. He steals potato chips from Noctis’ bag of them between every sentence of their conversation, but Noctis has never complained, only started bringing two bags to school instead of one. Noctis shrugs as he unfolds the plastic wrap around his sandwich. “You’re one of the leads too, you know.” “Yeah, but you’re gonna get all the best singing parts. You excited?” Noctis chews contemplatively. “I guess I am,” he says honestly. Prompto smiles. “That’s great, dude.” “Practicing together helps a lot, though,” Noctis admits quietly, looking up at Prompto through his bangs. Prompto’s smile turns a little shyer at that, and he bumps his knee against Noctis’ when he says, “Of course, Noct.” Noctis’ bumps his knee back and lets it stay there, maintaining the warm point of contact. “I’m thinking about inviting Ignis and Gladio to come see. Maybe even my dad.” Prompto sits up straight at that. “No way!” He slaps a hand against Noctis’ shoulder in disbelief. “Yep.” “Oh, we’re definitely practicing a lot, then,” Prompto says, already digging in his bag for the sheet music. Noctis doesn’t stop himself from singing aloud as he reads the music, this time; doesn’t flinch and shut his mouth when people walk by, doesn’t hide. And when he looks at Prompto, he doesn’t stop himself from pressing a quick, chaste kiss to his lips, which—besides singing—is quickly becoming his new favorite thing. And he’s not afraid to show it.

Based on this prompt from the kinkmeme here. Wrote this ages ago but then forgot about it, so super late fill, sorry. OTL

The hunt wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. Rogue behemoth blah blah terrorizing travelers blah blah blah. They���ve heard this all before.

The only thing that really stood out about this request was the astronomical reward attached. Apparently, this behemoth was particularly vicious and prone to attacking anything moving into its territory.

But by this point, they’ve been eating nothing but toast and cup noodles for days and even Gladio was starting to get sick of them.

Nobody protested when Noctis accepted the hunt.

Predictably, it wasn’t an easy hunt. Like, top five worst-hunts-ever material, right up there with the extra friendly marlboro and the flan that smelled like week old gym sock left to marinate in pit sweat.

Sure, they knew behemoths were generally violent and aggressive. This one just seemed extra violent, and also really really angry. Ignis theorized that perhaps it was near mating season. To which Gladio countered with, “I really don’t want to think about these things fucking.”

Which. Point taken.

No one really had time for idle conversation after that. One distraction could cost them, and as their supply of curatives was as desperately low as their food supply, it just wasn’t worth risking. Even Prompto (carefully) put his camera away, though he did pout about missing awesome shots of ‘a behemoth large enough to rival Gladio’ beforehand.

(Gladio threatened, “I’ll show you large!” to which Prompto squeaked, “Sexual harassment! I need to find an adult I can trust!” and Ignis gave them both a smack and an exasperated glare.)

It’s a good three or four hours later before they can sense the end of the fight, the great behemoth’s strength finally dwindling down before it collapses with a roar. Despite the blood pooling beneath it and the deep gashes on its body, it still struggled to get up and move, seemingly in a random direction since none of its attackers were there.   

(“Maybe we blinded it,” Prompto suggests. “Maybe it’s just dumb,” Gladio snorts.)

Noctis was the one who dealt the finishing blow, a clean slice to the underbelly, sliding through the blood with a grimace of disgust on his face the entire time. The behemoth’s dying bellow sounded almost sad and until the life left its eyes, it continued trying to get up, its muscles twitching even after death.

“I need a bath,” Noctis proclaims, trying to find something to wipe his bloodstained hands on. Unfortunately, every inch of him was just as bloodstained, so he walked up to Prompto and casually grabbed his shirt.

“Dude! Gross!” Prompto swats at him half-heartedly, too tired to really put up much of a protest. “Gah, you really do need a bath. You reek.”

“Yeah, well. Maybe we can switch roles and you can be up close and personal with the giant, bleeding monster and I can shoot at it from a distance.”

Prompto pretends to consider this. “Nah, I think I’m good. You can’t be a knight in shining armor without your trusty sword!”

Noctis snorts, slumping down against his best friend’s shoulder, ignoring his indignant squawking. “If anyone’s a knight, it’s Gladio.”

“He needs a shirt to be a knight.”

“What? Since when?”

“Since always, duh. It’s in the handbook.”

Completely ignoring the younger two’s antics, Ignis approached the behemoth corpse, already analyzing which parts they could make use of.

“Hm...it is a cut to the digestive system but, thankfully, a clean one. The bacteria shouldn’t have spread much.” He straightens from his inspection. “Gladio, a hand, if you please?”

“Guess I’m on butchering duty again?” He hefts his greatsword onto his shoulder with a sigh. “Maybe I should just wield a giant butcher knife from now on.”

“Nonsense. That would just look silly.”

They stayed for the additional thirty minutes it took for Ignis to be satisfied that he had stripped all useful parts off the carcass. By then, the sun was just starting to dip below the horizon and Gladio suggested they camp instead of driving all the way back to town, despite numerous protests.

(“Gladio. Did you miss the part where I am literally covered in blood? And so are you!” “Creek’s up that way. I’ll even let you go first, princess.” “Uck! What if there are leeches like last time?” “Then maybe they’ll clean off all that blood faster.”)

Ignis pacifies them with the promise of behemoth steak on rice for dinner and the four stomp onwards in search of a suitable camping location.

The good thing was, the rampaging behemoth scared most other things off its territory. The bad thing though, was that all the surrounding vegetation was decisively squashed looking and therefore, not all that great for hiding a campsite from magitek troopers flying overhead. And of course, there wasn’t a camp ground to be seen. 

(”Man, someone needs to reroll their luck stat.” “Can you stop being a nerd for like two seconds?”)  

Instead, they stumble upon a cave, disguised by low hanging tree branches and almost invisible but for the well-worn path leading up to its entrance.

Ignis reasonably points out that now was perhaps not the time to take on any potentially dangerous things living in that cave. Prompto chimes in that “dude, everyone knows hidden caves are where all the best items in RPGs are!” Noctis just wanted to find a place to pass out for the day.

And so Gladio ended up with little more than a flashlight and a ‘good luck’ as he went into unknown and potentially dangerous territory. So, business as usual.

Fortunately, the cave didn’t extend that far back, although it was a fair bit larger than it looked from the outside, with soaring ceilings that could house a building. He spent too much time looking at the ceiling, he didn’t realize there was something on the ground until he almost stepped on it.

Good thing that ‘something’ squeaked at him before he could crush it.

Looking down, he spots some sort of nest, a bunch of leaves and grass bunched up to make the stone floor a little softer. Looking closer, he sees three wriggling little bodies in that nest, one of which he’d almost stepped on.

He squats down to take a closer look, shining the light down to chase away the shadows. The three whatever-they-are’s are a weird purplish color that triggers a faint sort of recognition in the back of Gladio’s memory. They resemble newborn puppies mostly, their eyes barely open and squinting at the light in his hand. The squeaking is coming from them, high pitched sounds that he refuses to find cute until he’s 100% sure these things weren’t dangerous.

(Watching them attempt to reach his shoe in clumsy, wobbly movements lowers their odds of being dangerous to maybe 1%. Could still be poisonous.)

“Gladio? Did you find anything?”

He stares at the furry, squirming beans trying to climb his boot.

“...sort of?”

It is Ignis who identifies them as behemoth cubs, probably not even two weeks old. Not much is known about behemoth young, he says, because their mothers are often much more territorial until the cubs have opened their eyes and can start feeding on solid food.

It is Prompto that makes the connection, freezing in his quest to coax over a cub with his finger.

“So that behemoth we just killed…”

There is a short silence. Noctis suddenly becomes much more aware of how covered in blood he is.

“Oh, Gods.”

They stare down at the newly orphaned cubs crowding around Gladio’s foot. They look so tiny and helpless, it was hard to make the connection between them and the vicious monster they just hunted down.

One of them lets out a big yawn and is so shocked by this, it overbalanced, squeaking as it waves little paws in the air.

They could practically hear Prompto’s heart breaking.

“We...we have to do something, right? Since we...you know…” the blonde trails off awkwardly and waves his hands in a manner that probably is supposed to suggest the brutal murder of the cubs’ mother. “We can’t just leave them!” He turns pleading blue eyes at the others.

Ignis shifts on his feet and adjusts his glasses. “Prompto,” he begins, voice softer than normal, “I know it’s hard to envision right now, but these cubs will one day grow into monsters like their mother and then other people will have to hunt them down.”

‘So we should just kill them now’ goes unsaid.

Prompto’s lip trembles but he nods anyways. “I-I know, but…” He looks down again, where the cubs are clumsily pawing at each other in order to win the spot on top of Gladio’s boot.

“We don’t have to, um, kill them, right?” Noctis speaks up, “We can just leave them here and maybe they’ll wander off and not bother people anymore.”

Prompto nods with downcast eyes. “Y-Yeah. Maybe they’ll be hermit behemoths when they grow up!”

No one points out that leaving them at this age would effectively be killing them.

Satisfied that there was nothing else in the cave, they get ready to move on. Gladio gingerly moves the cubs aside before backing out of the cave, apologizing in his mind. Killing them now would’ve been a quicker, kinder death, he thinks.

It’s not until they’re a few feet away from the cave entrance when they realize that the squeaking isn’t getting any further away. Turning, they see all three cubs tumbling over each other and tripping over their own oversized paws to chase after them.

“Uh, Specs? Why are they following us?”

If Ignis is annoyed at suddenly being the designated behemoth expert, he doesn’t show it. “Perhaps they’re hungry?”

Gladio glares as the cubs run straight up to him. “Oi. We’re not food.” But they didn’t seem to be attempting to eat him, they just sat and cuddled with his boot some more.

What the hell.

“Oh, wait!” Prompto snaps his fingers. “Maybe it’s like that thing baby ducklings do! The, um…”

“Imprinting?”

“Yeah! Maybe they imprinted on Gladio because he looks like a behemoth!”

“Okay Blondie, come here and - “ As soon as he moved his feet, the squeaking came back, the cubs scrambling around until they found their anchor again.

It was cute in a I-need-to-punch-something-to-feel-manly-again kind of way.

“Hm. Perhaps the imprinting theory isn’t too far off the mark.”

“Oh, c’mon Iggy, not you too - “

“Gladdy’s a daddy!”

“Alright, you know what, you little punks - “

Maybe it was all the shouting or the anger in Gladio’s voice, but something set the cubs into a panic, alarmed squeals filling the air as they huddled behind Gladio’s leg until all that could be seen were tiny masses of shivering fur.

He takes a deep breath. “Look. We already said we can’t help them. And it’s not like they can follow us either.”

They stare each other down, nobody wanting to voice it out loud.

Ignis coughs delicately. “I have heard behemoth veal is especially tender.”

“Iggy!”

“Well, we were planning to eat their mother,” he says, pragmatically, “That’s hardly any worse.”

Noctis looks a little green in the face. “Ugh. Not sure I want to eat behemoth any time soon. Or ever.” Prompto nods his agreement.

“So who’s going to...you know…” Prompto makes another vague gesture at the cubs.

They all glanced at each other.

“Nose goes!”

And of course Gladio gets the short end of the stick (the nose? Whatever).

“Fine!” he growls. “My steak had better be the biggest piece out there, you get me?”

Prompto looks a little nauseous. “No arguments here, buddy.”

He summons his greatsword and looks down at the shivering mass at his feet. One of them lifts its head, staring at him with wide, yellow eyes. It opens its tiny mouth to give a happy chirp, its stumpy tail attempting to wag. It wiggles its way out of the cuddle pile to place two small paws on his boot.

His sword comes down.

The thud as it hit the dirt made three little bodies jump, but any fright they might have felt was quickly forgotten in favor of chewing at the hem of Gladio’s pants.

“I can’t do it.” Why did they have to be so darn cute?

Ignis gives a long-suffering sigh that still somehow managed to sound relieved. “Well. I’d imagine we’ll come across a wildlife center sooner or later.”

Prompto and Noctis high five.

With little choice, they turn back for the Regalia, conspicuously avoiding the area where they took down the earlier behemoth. Waiting for the cubs to scramble their way on their own is cute, but time-consuming, and with night fast approaching, Gladio is forced to pick them up and carry them in his jacket-turned-crib. Luckily, they are perfectly happy to be carried and Prompto expresses, once again, his urgent need for his camera.

Behemoth cubs are very snuggily, Gladio discovers.

They make Ignis throw out all the behemoth meat, much to his disappointment.

They learn many things in the first week they become unexpected parents/monster tamers.

Prompto learns that he can bribe the cubs away from Gladio with bacon. Their bacon budget rises considerably until Ignis puts his foot down. Prompto still manages to get some fantastically cute shots that he swears he’ll sell for a fortune one of these days.

Ignis learns that baby formula is horribly overpriced. But plain milk didn’t seem nutritious enough for infants, so he reluctantly set aside gil in their meager budget to accommodate that. If they had to have more days of toast and cup noodles, well. Perhaps they shouldn’t have made him throw out all that hard won meat.

Noctis learns that baby formula tastes disgusting. In his defense, it was early (“Dude. It was like 2 pm.” “And?”) and he was half-asleep. Worst way to wake up ever, and that wasn’t even counting Ignis’ exasperated sighs afterwards and the cubs’ big, wibbling eyes of betrayal.

Gladio learns to put a shirt on anytime the cubs get anywhere near his chest unless he wants them trying to suckle from him. Yeah sure, laugh it up, Blondie and Princess, but those teeth were sharp. He had to get medical treatment and even Ignis couldn’t keep a straight face.

And they all collectively learn that there really weren’t that many wildlife centers out there. Even less that wanted to try raising baby behemoths. And by ‘less’, they mean, exactly none.

“Well,” Ignis says, after the third wildlife center employee took one look at the cubs in Gladio’s arms and nearly fainted, “perhaps we should start looking into other alternatives.”

But he knew a losing battle when he saw one and between Prompto naming them (Meatloaf, Sirloin, and Brisket, which was more than a bit morbid), Noctis trying to teach them tricks (“No, he totally rolled over that time, didn’t you, Meatloaf?” “Noct. He just got pushed over.”), and Gladio turning into ‘Dadio’, complete with baby talk and bedtime stories, he figured it wasn’t worth the effort.

Besides. The little buggers were kind of cute.

It took three months before the cubs were too big to comfortably ride in the car with them. Instead, they found out that behemoths can go up to speeds of nearly 60 mph. They probably alarmed many drivers who had to follow behind the Regalia while it was being chased by three mid-sized dog creatures on the highway.  

Noctis is the one who decides the cubs (probably too big to be cubs now, really) needed collars. Or some sign that they weren’t wild beasts.

All the screaming people did every time they come to town might have something to do with that decision.

They commission some from Dino, figuring regular dog collars would be outgrown in a few months. The result was three rambunctious behemoths the size of small horses with hoola hoop-like collars flopping about their necks. Not only did they then have to spend a not insignificant chunk of time making sure the collars stayed where they were supposed to, no one even came close enough to the collars to recognize the royal crest engraved on the tag next to the name.

So the screaming continued.

Around five months, they start getting more monstrous looking, much to the Chocobros’ alarm. Black, wicked looking horns start to curve from their foreheads and their previously adorable habit of headbutting their humans when hungry was suddenly a lot less adorable and more hazardous to their health. Two of them grew a ruffle of orange fur around their necks, something Ignis guessed meant they were male. Sirloin and Brisket grew a lustrous mane of orange fur while Meatloaf got something that looked like tusks coming from the bottom of her mouth.  

(The Chocobros had a surprisingly intense conversation about whether the cubs had gender appropriate names. In the end, it was decided that Brisket was indeed a manly enough name but Sirloin would have to be abbreviated to ‘Sir’. Meatloaf, it was unanimously decided, was a unisex name.)

It was Gladio, naturally, that taught them to hunt on their own and to attack when directed. Hunts became that much easier now that they essentially had three hunting dogs (but five times more deadly) at their command.

In the end, despite the truly massive food budget, their ban from entering certain towns, and the near misses involving trampling and being gored, it could’ve turned out worse.

(“Yeah. We could’ve tried to turn them into veal, right Iggy?” “Mmmrph?” “Shh, shh, it’s okay, Meatloaf. We won’t let mean, ol’ Specs turn you into dinner.” “Oh, please. You seemed perfectly happy to eat their mother not too long ago.” “Okay, but in my defense, even Prompto was looking kind of tasty at that point, and he’s all skin and bone.” “HEY!”)

Ten years and a lifetime later, three hulking behemoths preceded the funeral procession of King Noctis Lucis Caelum, the Hero of Light and last of his line. They wear faded leather collars with a dull, metal tag, words long since faded away.

They are followed by three somber men carrying a simple wooden casket, looking like the weight of the world is on their shoulders.

In time, they know, they will become legend. The last king of Lucis bringing back the light with his three loyal companions and noble steeds.

But right now, in this moment, they are simply human and beast, mourning the loss of one of their own.