ffxv_kinkmeme | Prompt Post Round Five

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Prompt Post Round Five

Welcome to Round Five of the FFXV Kink Meme!

Closed for prompts | OPEN for fills

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New Prompts are Closed for this round. Please wait until 11/13/2017 for Round Six.

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yes yes yes new update :DDD

yay update!!

“Looks like you enjoyed that, professor,” Gladio said, nudging Ignis' hard cock with the cap of his boots. The three of them had him walled-in against the desk so he couldn't dash away even if he wanted to. He scrambled up anyway and Gladio caught him around the waist, making sure to press his crotch against his ass while he tried to wriggle out of his grip.

“What was that score you gave me, Professor Scientia?”

“The score that your feeble-mindedness deserved.”

“Which was?”

Ignis' gaze flicked to the wooden ruler. “Thirteen.”

“That's right.” Gladio bent him over the desk again. Apparently they were all in the same page with this because Noct grabbed the ruler. Prompto – still pink and bright-eyed from his blowie – held Ignis down by the shoulders, pinching his front to the surface of the desk. Noct scowled at Gladio but offered the ruler to him.

“You do the honours,” Gladio said.

The frown lifted by a micrometer. “Nah. Your arms are stronger.” He gave Gladio one of those dorky grins he thought made him look so smooth. “Sides, I've got plans of my own.”

“Fair enough.” Gladio took the ruler. It was solid, had a good heft to it. Made a noise like a whip cracking when he swung it through the air. “Count 'em, professor.”

Gladio smacked the ruler over the roundest part of Ignis' ass. The force of the blow knocked him against the hard edge of the desk. A rectangular impression of the ruler appeared on his skin, blanching white and then turning an angry red. Despite that, Ignis barely made a noise. “One,” he said, standing on his toes to present his ass to Gladio.

Gladio delivered the next few blows in rapid succession, harder this time. Ignis' ass grew redder and redder. The first one knocked him off his tiptoes and each successive one rocked him forward with a thump. But he still didn't so much as gasp.

“Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven.”

“How's he looking, Prompto?” Gladio asked.

Prompto lifted Ignis' chin with his fingers. “Blushy. And intense.”

“Stubborn's what he is.” Gladio patted one shiny, bright red cheek. “I know you wanna moan, professor.” He teased Ignis' hole with the pad of his thumb and Ignis parted his legs instinctively. “Admit it.”

“You'll get no such satisfaction from me.”

Tough talk. And Ignis had the high pain threshold to back it up. But whatever. He had other weaknesses. As if he was reading his mind, Noct tossed him one of the tubes of lube they'd all been instructed it to keep in their pockets. Gladio laid the ruler on the desk beside Ignis' head. Ignis may have been stonily silent when he was getting his ass beat but he cracked the moment Gladio crooked one lubed-up finger inside him.

He shuddered and moaned, pressing back to drive the finger deeper inside himself.

“Now he looks like he's having a great time,” Prompto said.

Gladio jerked his finger out. “That's all you get, professor. Unless you make some noise.”

“It will take more than your paltry fingers to break me.”

“I know how to motivate him,” Noct said. He took his lube back from Gladio and coated one hand. “Don't trap my hand.” He wedged it between Ignis and the desk, Ignis scooting back a little to make room for him. Gladio couldn't see it too well but Ignis' hitched breath told him Noct had ahold of his cock. “Rock hard. I knew he liked it. You'd better not come on me, professor.” He nodded at Gladio. “You know what to do.”

Gladio snatched the ruler eagerly. He rapped Ignis with it as hard as he could, the impact visibly reverberating through what little body fat Ignis had. Ignis' thighs trembled with the effort of not slamming forward where he might trap Noct's hand but moved him enough that his cock slid through Noct's slippery closed fist.

“Eight,” was all he said, although lavoured this time.

Gladio dealt another blow. This one so hard that the edge of the ruler bit into Ignis' skin, drawing spots of blood. Gladio followed it up with another blow right after, smearing the blood down Ignis' cheeks.

“Nine! Ten!”

“React, damn it.”

“Then stop tickling me.”

Noct snorted. Oh, that did it. For the last three strikes Gladio unleashed holy hell on on Ignis' ass. They left ruler-shaped gouges in Ignis ass, drew more specks of blood, and left it a shiny beacon red. Noct had to yank his hand free because Ignis could no longer stop himself thumping forward. And still, he only counted.

“Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. I believe that was it?”

“We could do my score,” Prompto suggested brightly. “Or all the points Noct didn't get.”

“Hey!”

Despite himself, Gladio was impressed. He probably looked more worked up than Ignis did. There was a tug in this shoulder from exactly how much he'd exerted himself. “Still nothing, huh? You must be pretty desperate for the main event.”

“Hardly,” Ignis said.

Was that a fucking pun? Gladio smacked his palm against the reddest, rawest part of Ignis' ass where a little drop of blood was crawling down thicker than the rest. Then ran his fingers over the cut. It was shallow, nothing they needed to worry about, but it was that gentle touch that made Ignis hiss after everything. Gladio handed off the ruler to Noct and smoothed his hands over Ignis' ass. It was red-hot and a tender pink. Ignis squirmed. “What's the matter, professor? Thought it was no big deal to you.”

He squeezed to give Ignis steady pressure on the burning flesh then released it. Ignis moaned. Gladio rewarded him with another ass smack. This time he was louder. He made a choked, relieved noise and rubbed himself against the desk. Gladio yanked his hips back. “Oh no you don't. If you wanna get off, it's gonna be with my cock so deep inside you you can taste it.”

“You think too highly of yourself.”

Noct – that little shit – laughed at that. What did he know anyway? “Face facts,” Gladio said. “You're rock hard. You want it. And to get it, you're gonna have to beg.”

Ignis turned his head and craned his neck to stare Gladio down. “Or what?”

“Or this.” Gladio hauled Ignis up and out of Prompto's grip. His wrists were almost as red as his ass where he'd been restrained. Gladio held him up, dangling him by those same wrists with his arms extended so he had to stay on his toes for balance, facing outward. “Hey, you two. What's the sexiest thing about our professor?”

Ignis turned his head into his shoulder as Noct and Prompto examined him. Gladio kept both ears out and tried to attune himself to the slight movements of Ignis' body in case he panicked.

“He looks good with a face full of come,” Noct said, referring to Prompto's spunk still drying on his cheek and glasses. “I'll think about that next time I have to listen to him going on and on and on about some boring shit.” Noct walked in a slow semicircle around Ignis, swinging the ruler idly by his side while he examined him from every angle. “His mouth's great when it has a cock in it too.”

“Uh, huh,” Prompto said, hovering at arm's length but staring at Ignis like he was trying to hoover every detail of him up with his eyes. “Man, what's not to like? Pecs, abs, those lines on his hips. What are they called?”

“The Bahamut's belt,” Ignis said, automatically. He just couldn't help himself apparently.

“Whatever they're called, they're super hot. And uhhh....” Prompto's eyes dipped lower. “It's big. Like, wow that's big. Not monster huge like yours, Gladio. But it's--”

Ignis shifted a bit. “Prompto.” Said big cock wasn't flagging under the attention. Noct lifted it with the flat of the ruler, perusing it in greater detail.

“Keep going,” Noct said, as Ignis cringed back into Gladio.

“--And this is probably gonna sound weird but I always liked the shape of his balls. They're all compact and, like, neat.” Noct was busy fondling them, staring at them closely. Ignis dipped his head further, hiding his face. “Then there's those thighs.” Prompto wolf-whistled. “Dunno how anyone's supposed to concentrate with them in the same room.”

“He's blushing,” Noct said. “Didn't think we'd noticed how sexy you are?”

“I think,” Ignis said, not lifting his head. “That it's irrelevant.”

“It's pretty relevant in my pants, professor.” Prompto indicated his bulge. “He's ready to go again. We can't get enough of you. And this is gonna sound way creepy but you've got weirdly pretty feet. Do you get those pedicure things?”

“I merely attend to my own hygiene, which all of you should be doing.”

Noct smacked the ruler through the air next to Ignis' ear so he jumped. “Look at me. Now.” Ignis lifted his head slowly, telegraphing reluctance through every second of it. Noct wedged the ruler under his chin, propping his head up with it. “You know what I think about when I jerk off?”

“Something tawdry, no doubt.”

Noct's eyes narrowed. “Having you tied up and spread-eagled on the board room table, completely naked, everything exposed, so when the next set of boring old assholes comes in to discuss something for four fucking hours all they can see and talk about it you. Your body. All that stuff Prompto likes so much.”

“Tawdry. As I suspected.”

“Turn him around, Gladio. Seems like he hasn't been punished enough.”

Gladio did, pulling Ignis' front against him, and leaving his back to Noct. Noct smacked the ruler across Ignis' ass. He might not have Gladio's upper body strength but Gladio felt it go through Ignis all the same. “You know why I think you didn't make a sound when Gladio was wailing on you?”

“Do enlighten me.”

Another smack. “I think it's because you liked the way it drew attention to your ass.” He punctuated the last three words with smacks. “Those boring old fucks I mentioned, do you know how often they sneak a look at it when they think you're not looking?”

“That is not true.” Ignis buried his head in Gladio's chest so he couldn't read his expression. The rest of his body stiffened.

Smack. Smack. Smack. “I dunno why you talk so much. They'd do anything you wanted just for a peek at this. Hell, you'd only have to pop a few shirt buttons and you'd have them wrapped around your little finger.”

“I wouldn't--”

Smack. “Yeah, you're above all that, aren't you? If only they could see you now. Showing off your body to the likes of Prompto.”

“Low-blow, dude.”

Noct ignored that. “Maybe I'll try this next time negotiations strain, huh?” A few more perfunctory smacks. Noct wasn't hitting hard anymore, using his words instead. “Strip you down and make you spread your ass for them.”

That seemed to tap into one of Ignis' primal fears. His breath came faster against Gladio's chest and he tried to twist out of Gladio's grip. Almost succeeded too.

“I wouldn't even let them touch you. Just witness what a desperate little fucktoy I have for an advisor. Let them ask me about how tight your hole is. Maybe take some photos.”

A blue flash went off. At first, Gladio thought it was Ignis summoning his daggers from Noct's arsenal. But it was just Prompto with a camera phone. “Nice,” he said, looking at the picture on the screen. “Your ass is really photogenic.”

“I'd make them keep your face out of it,” Noct said, just tapping the ruler against Ignis' ass now while Prompto took more photos. “Can't have the whole world knowing your hole's a better diplomat than you are.”

Ignis moaned and it sounded closer to despair than arousal.

“Noct,” Gladio warned.

“Or maybe not. Maybe I'd want them to spread the word. Everyone can come and watch you whoring yourself out more me. Everyone. All looking at your spread hole.”

Ignis whined.

“NOCT.” Gladio's yell startled everyone. “Knock it off. You're going way too far.”

“Gladio,” Ignis said, even more harshly. “Must you keep interrupting?”

“But it's...” Something they knew he had an issue with. That they were poking at. “You sure this is okay?”

Ignis' expression softened. “It's quite all right. You need to trust me to call it off myself if it becomes to much.”

“Okay, Iggy. Just you--”

“There's a certain appeal to the idea of shutting up the Altean delegation by simply dropping my trousers.” He grinned mischievously. “Although that will most certainly remain a fantasy.” He patted Gladio companionably on the cheek. “No more cold feet now. I was promised a main event. If you're able to continue?”

Prompto patted him on his other set of cheeks. “Yeah. Everything okay, big guy?”

“Yeah, yeah. I'm fine.” If Ignis was fine, so was he. “Let's get on with it.” No way he was being benched at this point. He forced Ignis to his knees with a hand on the back of his neck.

“You ready to beg?” Noct asked, as if there'd never been an interruption.

Ignis kneaded his hands against his thighs, hanging his head, not looking at them. But Gladio had to believe it was just part of the act. That grin before sure hadn't seemed like he was in any real distress. “I'm ready.”

“Get on with it then.”

“I want you to fuck me.”

“That's it? I know you've got a better vocabulary than that, professor.”

“Please,” Ignis gritted out. “Please fuck me.”

It was indecent how hot it was making Ignis say something vulgar. “Playing dumb again?” Gladio said. “Try harder.”

More hesitation. Ignis could talk in circles around some stuffy ambassador and he'd made Gladio feel about two inches tall a couple of times, but he was scowling hard in concentration now, trying to come up with something. “I want...”

“Yeah?” Noct normally never looked regal but with his chin tilted up imperiously, looking down his nose at Ignis he almost looked the part of their future king.

“I would like...” Ignis was rock hard still, cock jutting out like he was presenting it to them. Noct rapped the head of it gently with the ruler so it bounced. Ignis moaned, then got hold of himself again. “Please. I want all three of you to fuck me. Hard. I want you to fill me up with your cocks.”

“Where do you want them?”

“In-- Inside me.”

He rapped Ignis cock head again. “Where? Show us.”

Ignis immediately flipped over and hoisted his ass in the air. He spread his legs, giving Gladio the perfect view of his slick hole and his cock and balls hanging down between his thighs. “Please. Inside me.”

“Which one of us do you want first?”

“Gladio.”

Probably just practical since Gladio was the biggest but it still did his ego good.

“You want Gladio's horse cock, huh? In this tiny, slutty little hole?”

“Yes!”

“Say it.”

“I want Gladio's horse cock in my tiny slutty little hole. Stretch me out. Use me. I need it.”

“Think he asked nicely enough?”

“Sounded sincere enough to me.” That and if he had to hear any more of this, Gladio was gonna jizz in his pants before he got anywhere near Ignis. Gladio unzipped and even though he was dying to give Ignis what he'd asked for right away, he took his time lubing up his cock, and finger-fucking Ignis open. Prompto was getting snap-happy around them, the flash going off in all different directions.

“Your cock,” Ignis said, voice strained. “Fuck me. Please, Gladio. What do I need to say?”

Fuck. “Tell me how it feels.”

Prompto moved too as Gladio shifted position, sliding the camera phone underneath them between Gladio's legs for the most explicit view. He must've set it to record video because he darted back out of the way once he'd set it down.

Ignis moaned as Gladio pushed into him, just the tip breaching him. “It's enormous,” he said. “Oh Gods-- I--” Ignis trembled with the effort of staying still. “What do you want from me? Fuck me. Fill me. Gladio. Please. I--”

Tempting. So, so tempting just to give in and give him what he wanted. “I'm gonna fuck you like the skankiest spunk-stained one gil back-alley whore anyone's ever picked off the street. And you're gonna love it.”

“Yes! Please!”

“Ask me to do that.”

A few beats of silence then. “Fuck me like a-- a spunk-stained back-alley whore you've picked up off the street for a gil. And I will love it.”

Gladio drove into Ignis, impaling him in one smooth slide until his pelvis met Ignis' still pink ass. Ignis groaned, bearing down on every inch. Gladio somehow grew even harder inside him, overwhelmed by the indescribable tightness of Ignis' body and the sight of prim, proper Ignis' hole stretching out to accommodate all of him.

Not that fucking Noct or Prompto wasn't nice in its own way but they felt tiny and fragile in his hands. Like if he ever lost control he'd crush them. Like if he went too deep they'd be in hospital. Ignis was only slightly smaller than him. Could take whatever he decided to dish out. And he'd wanted to dish out a whole lot ever since Ignis brought this scene up with him. He withdrew almost to the tip and slammed his cock back into Ignis. Again and again. Ignis let out the sexiest little moans every time. Some guys lost their hard-ons when they were fucked but Ignis didn't. If anything, it only made him harder. He gasped and shuddered when Gladio fisted his cock.

“You're such a good cocksleeve, professor. What are you?”

“Your cocksleeve!”

“Knew you were a hungry cockslut the moment I saw you.”

Ignis' only response to that was a ragged groan. Gladio grabbed his hips so tight his knuckles turned white and lifted him so his back arched, part of his torso coming off the floor. Little dimples appeared on the lower part of his lean, muscled back and Gladio drove down into him at a different angle, pelvis and balls smacking against Ignis' ass. He tightened suddenly, squeezing Gladio's cock even harder, and splattered the floor with come.

“Good cockslut,” Gladio said, fighting to keep the same pace while stalling his own orgasm. “Knew you loved being fucked. You guys see that?”

“Oh yeah,” Noct said, closer than Gladio had expected him to be. “He came just from being fucked. How does Gladio's cock feel inside you, professor?”

“I'm-- Full-- Gladio-- So full...”

“I'm gonna--” Gladio pulled out, still supporting Ignis with one hand. He came against Ignis' hole then drove back in, emptying the last few pulses into Ignis' ass. Good job this place was soundproofed because he didn't know which one of them was louder. Gladio's thighs trembled with the aftershocks and Ignis rocked back against him, ekeing out a few last seconds of pleasure from his softening cock.

Prompto swiped the phone from under them and wiped it on his pants. Gladio slowly lowered Ignis to the floor, where he tucked one thigh underneath himself and worked his hand underneath. He jerked himself with one hand, playing with his come-filled hole with the other.

“Hey, no faces,” Gladio warned Prompto as he kneeled to get more footage of it.

“Relax, dude. It can't connect to wifi. We're safe from the Cloud.”

“If you two are done talking,” Noct said, getting way too into this bratty role of his. “Looks like he wants more.”

#

He has hidden depths :D Thank you for commenting.

Thank you! I'm nearly finished with this one now, just a couple more scenes.

Thank you. I have to admit I'm a bit obsessed with sub Ignis.

Thank you <3

Oh man this fill continues to be awesome! I liked how Noct started to get personal with the dirty talk instead of keeping to the teacher roleplay (and that Ignis was into it).

seconded, Noct's dirty talk was my favorite part!

Working on a fill. No promises on when it'll be up, but it's happening.

Ardyn would have to begrudgingly admit that he is greatly enjoying his time with the teen and his sister; playing games with them when their father or the old butler are not around, telling them stories of old, and sitting down to enjoy meals with them. It feels like he has a little family, it’s nice. But something kept gnawing at him, like he was forgetting something.

“I’m really going to miss you when you go back home.” Gladio says, cheeks slightly pink and face looking of forlorn as they walk home now that he is done with training.

Ah yes, that.

“I as well child. But I’m sure you’ll forget about me since things seem to be getting better for you.”

It has, while he still gets some razzing from his classmates, the instructor has been nicer to him; especially since Ardyn put his newfound shapeshifting spell to good use by taking on the guise of the portly principle and giving a talking down to the haughty teacher. Plus he has gained a few little admirers from some of the females in his class that has given the teenager a boost of confidence, hopefully it doesn’t give him a big ego. With his training, he now works one on one with his stoned faced tutor, the man preparing him for his eventual training of the Prince. But the biggest change has been with the boy’s father. While he’s still gruff with him at times, he’s been more lenient about what is expected of the teen, allowing him to have time where he can just act like a normal child.

“I know it is but, I’ll still miss you and all the fun things we did.”

“Oh? Like bopping you over the head like a misbehaving pup?”

Gladio chuckles to himself. “Well, not that. I like talking to you about books and history, playing games along with Iris, and when we go for walks. You’re kind of like a cool Uncle.”

Ardyn allows a rare smile to creep onto his face at the boy’s words. “And you’re like a pesky little rascal who will not stay off my lawn, but is sweetly endearing at the same time.”

Gladio chuckles again and even the older man lets a soft one out.

“So were you able to find a spell you’ll believe will work?”

“Hmm, possibly.”

Ardyn had narrowed it down to two, but both still had issues besides potentially not working. The one finalized with a kiss seemed the more simplistic, he just doesn’t want to steal away the boy’s first kiss nor is he comfortable with kissing a thirteen-year-old. He does have some morals. Then there's the second option with its cryptic ‘the summoner must give up something they hold dear’. The only thing that seems dear to the boy is his sister and that is a major no. Maybe he’ll just let Gladio decide when it’s time. And speaking of time.

“You said everyone will be out of the house on Sunday, correct?”

“Yeah, my Dad will be having council meetings all day and Jared is taking Iris to get her haircut in the afternoon. So that will give us about an hour and a half to set everything up and perform the spell.”

“So two more days and I will be back home.” Ardyn says with a soft sigh. He feels quite relieved at the prospect of returning back to Niflheim, but a small part of him feels a pang of sadness. Damn little urchin with his sad kicked puppy face.

“Hey,” Gladio begins, him slightly fidgeting and looking bashful. “we should do something fun before you leave, like a going away party.”

“Hmm, wouldn’t really be a party if it’s just the two of us.”

“Still, we should do something.” the teen says and then looks over at the park as they walk by. “Hey, do you want to go walk that trail again?”

Ardyn sighs annoyedly, wanting to get back to the teen’s abode and take a nice long bath. But when he sees the sparkle in those amber eyes, he knows he can’t say no. “Very well, but only for a bit.”

Gladio beams brightly and turns into the park, with Ardyn shaking his head and following soon after. Once the two are on the trail and safely out of view from most people, Ardyn unhides and walks aside of the teen.

“Are there places like this from where you are from?” Gladio asks curiously.

“Yes, but I seldom get to enjoy them.”

Can't really stop to smell the roses when you're trying to dispose of a body. Although, maybe he should take a walk sometime, he might find some new serene places where he can hide the remains of his enemies.

“You should though, it can be relaxing.” Gladio says and then gets a playful look to him. “I wish I had a large bouncy ball.”

Without a thought, Ardyn flicks his wrist and manifest the object, then looks spitefully at it then the grinning child standing before him. He goes to snap at the boy but then notices the eager puppy face he is giving him, feeling his ire slowly slipping away.

“Let me guess, you want me to throw this so you can chase after it then bring it back to me?”

Gladio frowns. “I’m a dog. I wanna play catch with you.”

Ardyn looks at the round item in his hand, brain slowly processing what was just said to him. ‘Play catch’. That was something a parent and child do for fun. The older man returns his gaze to the teen, him looking more like an overgrown toddler as he bounces on his toes and looks hopeful.

“Very well, I shall amuse you. For a bit.”

Gladio moves himself further down the trail before turning back to Ardyn, hopping slightly and flailing his arms.

“Okay! Throw it to me!”

A cheeky little smile curls onto the bound Chancellors lips. He does toss the ball, right over the teen’s head, making him chase after it. The teen bounds back over while still wearing his trademark goofy grin and tosses the ball back. Ardyn watches as it sails towards him, pursing his lips and using his magic to bring the ball to him.

“Hey, that’s cheating!” Gladio grumbles but stops and watches as the ball is tossed back, right over his head. He puffs his cheeks out and chases after the ball. “All right, I’m going to throw it and no cheating this time!”

Ardyn still does it anyway. The two continue their little game until it begins to get dark, realizing they stayed a little longer then they had planned. They rush back as quickly as they can but as soon as Gladio steps foot inside his house, he is greeted by an angry look from his father.

“You’re late.” the man says lowly.

Gladio goes rigid. Ardyn leans in close to him and whispers something to the teen, him relaxing slightly.

“I wanted to work on my stamina more and went for a jog at the park.”

The elder Amicitia stares at his son briefly before grunting. “Call someone next time.”

“Yes sir.” he says, letting a soft sigh escape him.

“Go get yourself cleaned up, Jared will have dinner ready at eighteen-thirty.”

“Will do, sir.”

The teen heads off to wash himself, getting pounced upon by his sister as he does.

“Gladdy I was so worried when you didn’t come home, but then I remembered Mr. Ghost is with you and he won’t let anything bad happen to you.” she says and then giggles when she feels a phantom hand pat her on the head. “Oh, oh! Hey Mr. Ghost can I show you something while my brother gets cleanup?”

“Iris, what are you up to?” the teen asks curiously.

“None of your business Gladdy, gosh.”

Ardyn chuckles to himself and gives her a little nudge while nodding. She leads the invisible man to her room and once she makes sure no one followed she closes the door marginally.

“What is it you want to show me child?” he asks, then watches as the little girl runs over to a bag, taking out a book and presenting it to him. “A children’s book?”

“Yeah, Papa gave Jared some money so that I could get something when we went shopping today and I got this. I want to practice reading with you so that I can read it to my Papa and Gladdy. Will you help me?”

He looks down at her, looking into her big puppy eyes, and just like with her brother he knows he can’t deny her. “Very well.”

Iris squeals happily and plops down into a little plush Moogle chair. Ardyn listens as the girl reads her book, correcting her whenever she mispronounces a word and helping her when she doesn’t know one. Eventually, she is called for dinner, leaving Ardyn to amble about the house by himself. He eventually makes his way back down to the basement, looking at the spot on the floor where he was summoned. A strange feeling comes over him, setting the daemons who inhabit him into a tizzy. While he was delighted with the prospect of returning back to his home, a part of him feels a tad melancholy, knowing once he returns there will be no one to greet him. Ardyn snaps out of his funk and shakes his head. Maybe he’ll get himself a cat or two, they don’t need much care and can be mildly friendly, when not sleeping or being little assholes. He hears a raucous bout of laughter from upstairs, upon heading back up he finds the little girl in the midst of a giggle fit as she is relentlessly tickled by her brother as their bemused Father watches from his spot in his recliner. It was a sweet little sight, almost enough to make his blackened heart swell. After the siblings finish their battle, the little girl presents them with her new book.

“Would you like for me to read that to you Iris?” Clarus asks.

“Nope, I want to read it to you and Gladdy.”

The two men look at her in surprise before smiling at her. Iris pushes over an ottoman to sit on so she is near both her Father and brother. She looks at the both of them before quickly glancing at Ardyn, giving him a little smile and proceeding to read her book. The night rolls on with Gladio getting a start on his homework as his sister gets tucked into bed. Once she is alone, Ardyn goes to her and motions for her to remain quiet.

“Young one, I have a favor to ask of you. I’ll be leaving here shortly and I have a deep concern for your brother. Would you promise me, that you’ll always show him love and support, especially when the weight of the world and his duty tries to push him down.”

“Okay Mr. Ghost, I promise.” she whispers softly, a smile on her face.

He smiles at her in return but then looks at her curiously as she holds up her pinkie to him.

“What ever are you doing?”

“It’s a pinkie promise. You clasp pinkies with someone you make a promise to and you can never break it.”

Ardyn chuckles softly at this. Such a simple little thing, but so endearing. He clasps his pinkie with hers, the little girl smiling broadly before releasing him and snuggling down in her bed.

“Goodnight Mr. Ghost.”

“Goodnight Iris.”

The auburn haired man retreats from her room and returns to the living room, finding the teen there alone, doing his schoolwork. Ardyn walks over to him and glances at his work, watching as he carefully writes his words in cursive. The older man gives a pat to the boy’s head, him stopping momentarily to smile before resuming his work.

When Gladio's truck pulled up in front of the house, Ignis stopped being obsessive in the kitchen and headed out to meet him. Prompto was snug under his blankets on the sofa and decided to save his energy for talking.

Or... maybe he didn't need to say anything, because Gladio stopped so short in the front doorway that Ignis walked right into him.

"The fuck," Gladio said, shifting to the side and clapping Ignis' shoulder in apology. "What's going on?"

"Prompto's father was an evil, loathsome monster," Ignis summed up. He made his way forward to the table carefully, arms laden with boxes and bags.

Gladio followed, dropping his own armload down haphazard for Ignis to deal with. He headed straight over to the sofa and dropped into a crouch next to Prompto. The worry on his face made Prompto ache.

"What's up, kiddo?"

Better to rip the bandage off quickly. "I've got maybe three, four months left to live," Prompto said. Gladio flinched like he'd been punched in the face. "Optimistically speaking. But I'm not in pain and they let me come home because Ignis is here."

"Motherfucker," Gladio said softly, and wrapped Prompto up in a cautious hug. Prompto wished he could get the full-on traditional Gladio crush, but he honestly didn't know if his bones could take it. "Your message made it sound like you'd finally managed to tie Iggy down."

"Kind of," Prompto argued, because wasn't Ignis stuck here anyway?

"Definitely," Ignis corrected with a sigh. Prompto guessed all their little secrets were going to be aired. He didn't think Gladio would like this one. "The most expedient way for me to be allowed to make legal and medical decisions turned out to be marriage of convenience. Which makes this, I suppose, our honeymoon."

The look Gladio gave Prompto was a mixture of sorrow and reproach that he didn't quite understand.

"I brought a ton of food. We can at least celebrate like it's the real thing."

"Prompto has dietary restrictions," Ignis said. "But the grill's in the back, if you want to choose one of these chunks of meat to defrost." He gestured to half of the bags. "Did you bring me an entire catoblepas?"

"Dualhorn," Gladio corrected. "Waste not, want not." He gave Prompto a firm pat and pushed himself up. "Let me help you put stuff away."

Month 2

Gladio had a wife and kids now, and a paying job, as weird as it was to think about. He worked out a schedule where he was able to stay over one to three days a week, setting up a tent in the yard to sleep in just like old times, huh?.

In a lot of ways, Prompto was relieved to not be alone with Ignis all the time. Ignis was a frankly terrifying caregiver, following every instruction perfectly, like that was some kind of magic formula that would keep death at bay. Prompto missed magic. Potions had reset him back to normal; the medicines he took always had trade-offs. He could be pain-free but at the cost of not be able to think straight, and his heart was kept functioning with a side order of headaches, dizziness, and exhaustion.

Some day, the fact that Ignis was going to lose this battle was going to sink home, and Prompto almost didn't want to be around for that. Ignis deserved better.

One morning the home helper – Gen – got Prompto up and dressed, clean shaven and medicated, and then helped him shuffle out of the bedroom and over to the table for breakfast. Prompto knew he sounded grumpy when he said that he used to run ten kilos every morning and never breathed this hard, but it was true. Amazing how quickly all his health had just melted away.

Gladio was seated already, but he got up when Prompto sat and said, "Hey." He went to go fill a bowl full of Ignis' latest gruel recipe and plonked it on the table with a grin. "I made Iggy take the day off. He was looking more dead on his feet than you." Behind Prompto, Gen snorted; he was still getting used to the warped senses of humor everyone had.

"Later, man," Gen said, giving a chill nod. "Have a good one." He saw himself out, whistling under his breath. Prompto liked him, though he didn't get how anyone could enjoy the job he did.

"I want to go to Angelgard," Prompto said when he'd eaten as much as he could, and Gladio was writing down how many grams that was in the care log. Gladio looked at him like he was an idiot. "I'm never going to get healthier than this," Prompto pointed out. "I go every year, to pay my respects and stuff. You know I can't ask Ignis."

"Fuck." Gladio grimaced at that, but he grabbed his phone to call around for permission. The tombs and the shrine on the mainland were open to the public, and at this point there were probably more pilgrims coming to pay their respects than vacationers. Ignis said – rather scornfully – that it was like watching a religion being born. Only a very few were allowed to set foot on the sacred ground of Angelgard itself, for fear of calling down the wrath of the Six: just those who had fought with the King of Light, and when they had all passed into the beyond, the island would be barred to all.

They drove down muffled in Gladio's uncomfortable disapproval, picking up flowers and candles on the way. Prompto felt weird saying farewell at the tombs – more like, see you soon – and he napped on the boat ride over, the waves lapping at the sides making him dream of the lake again. Gladio managed to brute-force the wheelchair halfway up the path to the old prison but no further, so Prompto had to be carried the rest of the way.

"Like a bride," Prompto laughed helplessly into Gladio's shoulder. "My hero."

Prompto's skin began to prickle as they approached the shadowed entryway, all the hair on his arms standing on end like the air was charged with magic or electricity, a hint of unknowable power whose attention he did not want to attract.

A rough altar had been built before the stairs, and Gladio settled Prompto on the ground, wrapped up in his blanket with his back to a sun-warmed stone, while he rinsed the topstone clean with a bottleful of water, and then made the offerings to the Six. Despite the sea breeze, the candle flames didn't flicker or gutter, their wisps of smoke rising straight.

For a moment, Gladio looked like he might pray or something, which made Prompto a bit nervous – he knew how gods granted wishes, that was why Ignis was blind and Noct was dead. But then Gladio got to his feet, rolled his shoulders back, and broke out the lunch he'd packed. He settled next to Prompto and helped him out, which hardly even registered as humiliating these days. Just another thing Prompto was giving up. Speaking of which...

"Hey, Gladio."

Gladio waved one hand while chewing, intent on shoving in the last bit of his his meat sandwich.

"I want to ask you a huge favor."

Gladio chewed, swallowed, and then sighed heavily; the flames didn't stir. "I'm not ready to hear your last wishes. I know – I know, okay? But I'm trying real hard not to believe."

"I've been there." Prompto fiddled with the fringe on the edge of the blanket Gladio'd wrapped him up in. They'd probably need to wash it when they got home. Ignis would be displeased. "Promise me you'll look after Ignis when I'm gone."

Gladio stared out at the ocean, a deep and roiling blue visible beyond the stone plaza. Maybe he was wondering what kind of fish lived off the shores of the gods' own island, or perhaps he was just avoiding Prompto's gaze.

"He'd hate that," Gladio said finally. "He'd be a condescending prick and thank me for my concern, and then fuck off to Niflheim again. There's no one in this world who can look after that man."

Prompto wet his lips. He wanted Ignis to stay in his little house with the view out over a kickass beach, and tend to the garden, and sleep in his bed with someone who loved him. "He won't tell me what he does when he goes there."

Gladio shoved to his feet and stretched; avoidance tactic number two. "Remember when we found you in Zegnautus, you and Noct had a heart-to-heart while me and Ignis pretended we weren't eavesdropping? Noct promised you, when he was king, he'd unite Lucis and Niflheim, except – yeah. So guess who's decided that's his life mission."

Prompto tried to wrap his head around that, and failed. "Is it working?"

"You know how much Ignis loves talking about himself. It used to be – when Noct was alive, we had a shared purpose, and we knew each others' strengths and weaknesses. After he was gone and the world was saved, it took years to figure out how to have different ambitions, and by the time I got my head out of my own ass, you and Iggy were on opposite sides of Lucis and barely talking. Never figured that one out. You were good for each other during the darkness. I know he loved you like crazy."

Prompto's eyes went wide, and every beat of his poor struggling heart thudded heavy in his chest. Oh.

His thoughts must have been clear on his face, because Gladio grimaced and said, "He never said."

"Not one word."

"Eh. He's a do-er, not a tell-er." Gladio dug in his pack for Prompto's medicines and helped him wash the pills down with water from a flask. "Probably wouldn't have made much difference anyway."

Prompto slumped, at the limit for how much energy he had to expend today... this week... whatever. "Would've," he muttered stubbornly as he fought his dropping eyelids. "To me."

"Time to head home?" he heard Gladio ask, and he rallied just enough to make an affirmative noise. If Noct didn't know by now that Prompto was on his way, he didn't know how else to get the message to him.

He slept the whole way home, and barely had the strength to eat dinner, despite the way Ignis coaxed. Through his daze, he heard Gladio and Ignis talking – not yelling, which he'd worried about. Gladio even laughed, an air-shaking rumble that made Prompto smile, and eased him into his drugged, dream-fraught sleep.

Month 3

The doctor had warned Prompto (and Ignis) to be wary of what she called false resurgences: days when Prompto felt as if his illness had receded and he had all the strength and energy to be expected of someone his age.

Prompto knew that, so he examined his motivations clearly. Ignis was working at the dining table, filling a notebook with his meticulously-lettered memoirs. He'd let Gladio read Prompto some of what he'd written the last time Gladio had come to visit, and Prompto'd been blown away. Ignis remembered everything, as vividly as if it'd been just yesterday, and his narrative was full of humor and insight. Doubly impressive considering he had to plan every sentence out in his head before committing it to paper, and couldn't easily go back to make corrections. So: Ignis was busy, off in his happy place, and Prompto didn't want to disturb him.

Except he really needed to piss. The bathroom was right over there – his bathroom, in his house, just a few steps away from the sofa where he was settled. He didn't feel like there was any false resurgence. He felt like shit: exhausted, aching, woozy from the medicine, et cetera et cetera. But he also felt like there was no reason he couldn't get up, go piss, and come back without making Ignis have to do battle with the wheelchair – or worse, fetch the urinal flask from the bedroom.

He managed three steps before Ignis was at his side, one arm going around his waist to take his weight as he tersely demanded to know what the hell Prompto was doing.

"Toilet," Prompto said, just as shortly. Walking and talking was more multitasking than he was usually up for.

He could feel Ignis' resistance to the idea, but after another dogged step Ignis said, "Fine," and braced his other hand against Prompto's shoulder.

The door was right there, one step away, when Prompto was hit by vertigo so strong his vision went white and spotty and he nearly threw up from the dizziness. He was aware of gravity's weight pushing down, but the next thing he was conscious of was of lying on the ground. Or rather, lying on top of Ignis, who was breathing in a terribly well-regulated way and running his fingers through Prompto's hair.

"Are you alright?" Ignis asked, his voice strained but far more mild than Prompto deserved. "Are you injured?"

Prompto licked his lips, concentrating on getting enough air to be able to speak without coughing. He hated coughing. The effort gave him time to take inventory. He could wiggle his fingers and toes and didn't feel sharp pains anywhere. They'd both heard multiple lectures about the dangers of falls in the home, but Prompto was fine. Bruised, maybe, but everything bruised these days. He'd pissed himself when he'd passed out, which was humiliating as well as cold, but he hoped Ignis thought that was a fair trade for not cracking a hip.

"Okay," Prompto said. His voice sounded weird. "Sorry."

"We both knew better." Ignis' fingers strayed down to stroke Prompto's cheek, and he leaned into the caress. Ignis was warm and his touch was familiar and comforting. The last time Prompto'd collapsed on top of him like this had been after sex, far too many years ago.

"You know I love you, right?" Probably no less romantic scenario existed, but Prompto let his words stumble on. "I should have... done a lot of things different. Fixed things with you. Top of the list." Back then, how they'd both felt about Noct had seemed an insurmountable obstacle; now, Prompto didn't see it at all. There should have been enough love to go around for everyone.

"Shh." Ignis shifted minutely, and put his thumb over Prompto's lips. "Of course I know." He took a breath, and Prompto's head on his chest rose and fell. "And I love you. Please don't entertain regrets on my behalf. I'm simply glad to be here now." He sounded both sincere and profoundly embarrassed; Prompto tried to raise his head to see, but Ignis held him down with a light touch to his neck. "I'm afraid I must ruin the moment, however. I'm going to shift you onto the floor – do not attempt to sit up – and go fetch clothes and a blanket while you call Gen to arrange an emergency visit."

"Don'wanna," Prompto slurred into the warmth of Ignis' shirt.

"Yes, well," Ignis said ruthlessly, and carried out his plan without any consideration of Prompto's desire to avoid consequences.

Prompto made the call as soon as the phone was pressed into his hand – like ripping off a band-aid, better to get it over with quickly. As soon as he was done, he let himself blank out for a bit, vaguely aware of a blanket and clean pajamas, and then Ignis bringing his pillow and a warm drink with a straw and settling on the floor next to him to mess with his hair some more. Even in the place where he was dreaming, Prompto found it comforting.

Gen and a burly nurse arrived with an unwelcome draft of cold wind from the front door, their steps shaking the floorboards. Prompto was checked over head to toe for injuries, pronounced just fine, and tossed back into bed (not really: Gen was a professional, but he did give Prompto a very disappointed look). Prompto was sinking back into his doze when he heard Gen say Dude sharply, and Ignis answer It's nothing.

When Prompto was woken for dinner and medication, he found Ignis looking defensive, with his right forearm in a cast.

"I broke your arm?" Prompto blurted out in horror. "I suck as a boyfriend."

Ignis tried to hold in his laughter, but it escaped, first as an undignified snort and then as a raging torrent.

Prompto tried to get him to explain, but every time he asked, "What?" Ignis started wheezing again. Finally, he just pulled him over to sit on the bed next to him – "So you don't fall over again, you idiot" – and had Gen bring him a warm wet cloth.

When Ignis was done with his inexplicable hysterics and started rubbing at his eyes, Prompto batted his hand away and had him put his visor on the side table. Tears, even from laughter, irritated his eyes, and the last thing they needed was Ignis getting another eye infection on top of Prompto breaking his arm.

"I can't believe you let me confess my love right after I broke you," Prompto said. He ignored Ignis' grimace as he pushed the paralyzed left eyelid up to make sure gunk wasn't accumulating there. The first time he'd done this, Ignis had been so tense he'd been shaking, and Prompto terrified of hurting him (even though he'd known most of the nerves had been burned dead, it still looked fucking painful). Over the years he'd gotten comfortable being up close and personal with Ignis' damaged eyes; that familiarity was almost a point of pride. He doubted Gladio knew how careful Ignis had to be, to preserve even the scraps of light he could still perceive.

"I assumed it was merely a sprain," Ignis said. He was still half-smirking, like he couldn't stop seeing the humor in the situation. "Both you and I have had far worse injuries. It didn't seem worth mentioning."

"I'll sprain your ass," Prompto threatened, and pulled Ignis down. He kissed both his eyebrows and his nose with loud affection. Ignis retaliated with a very sweet kiss that lingered on Prompto's lips even after Ignis went to go get ready for bed. Just like lovers, or something, Prompto thought, and forced down the wistfulness that threatened to drown him.

Gen was staying over, and he'd moved the cot Ignis used out to the living room where he could hear if Prompto called him during the night. Which meant Ignis was bunking down with Prompto, but he still hesitated in the doorway on returning, as if not wanting to presume.

Like Prompto would ever send him out to sleep on the sofa. "Bed's plenty big enough," Prompto pointed out. "Plus there's less of me to get in the way, now."

Ignis shut the door behind him. "I remember the last time we shared a bed. There were noise complaints."

"I'm the quiet one," Prompto reminded him. "You're the screamer."

"Hardly my fault," Ignis said primly. He navigated the bedrails smoothly and slid under the covers with the air of someone who'd won a discussion.

Reaching to the side, Prompto found Ignis' hand to stroke, or at least his fingers where they stuck out from the cast. For a moment, black frustration swept over him: how dare the universe return Ignis' love with pain, his eyes for Noct and now this. It wasn't fair. But then Ignis said, "That feels nice," sleep-mumbling but pleased, and the painful twisting of Prompto's heart eased.

"Tell you a secret... I don't really want to die," Prompto said, very quietly, in case Ignis was already asleep.

He got a sigh in answer, and then his hand was caught in a barely-there grip, just fingertips and thumb and Ignis' stubborn will. "I wish you wouldn't myself. But – imagine what you'll say when you see Noct again. He'll love seeing you. And you'll finally meet Lady Lunafreya. In the Beyond you won't be sick any more."

"I won't be able to see you," Prompto said, and his voice came out too thin and breathless.

Ignis leaned over and adjusted Prompto's pillows, and as he pulled back his hand trailed over Prompto's hair before he resettled. Probably he knew how comforting that felt. "When I pass over, I hope to be able to see you."

"That'll be cool," Prompto said, imagining it. He had trouble remembering Ignis' eyes before Altissia, even though he had pictures to jog his memory. He supposed Ignis' recall of what he looked like was even more capricious, some kind of idealized blend of yellow hair and freckles, snub nose and resting bitch face. "Take your time, though." There were so many things he wanted for Ignis – to have a home and a lover, to live a long life full of laughter, maybe even have kids or a cat or a dog. But he was cautious, now, after Gladio's veiled warning. He didn't want Ignis to feel compelled to do anything just for the sake of Prompto's last wishes. "I can't figure out if I want you to miss me or not."

The words hit the air uncomfortably, coming out all wrong if he judged by Ignis' silence, like he was hurt or offended.

"I mean – I want you to think about me, of course I do." Prompto tried to convey that by rubbing his thumb over the backs of Ignis' fingers, soothing him like a cat. "I want you to be like, Prompto would've laughed at that or taken a picture of this or really liked this meal. Except I don't want to think about you being sad. You don't deserve sadness."

"I can't decide whether to sell this bed or not," Ignis said, turning his face towards Prompto. His right eye reflected the glow from the night-light, almost as if he were staring at Prompto, but he suspected this was an accident and not Ignis trying to maintain the appearance of vision.

"It's a nice bed," Prompto said, after a moment. "Comfy."

"I'd hate to sleep here by myself." Ignis' shoulder rose and fell in a weary shrug. "But I suppose there'd be comfort in the sense of your presence. Your smell will linger, and I might wake and reach for you before remembering." He blinked, slow like a sigh. "Of course, if you die in this bed, I'll probably have to burn it."

Prompto snorted. Trust Ignis to say something like that. "I'll try and be considerate about where I kick the bucket. Would you burn the bathtub?"

"I'd give it my level best." His jaw tightened, as if he were holding back a yawn. "Go to sleep."

"Love you," Prompto said, the way people did in TV shows. The words weren't hard to say after all, and he drifted off to sleep wondering why he'd never known that until now.

*

The next few days Prompto drifted from revelation to revelation but found he didn't have the energy to care anymore. He probably wouldn't walk again; he might not get out of bed again. When Gladio turned up to take over from Gen, now that Ignis was incapacitated, Prompto told him to go ahead and sell off all his camera equipment.

"I can't even lift a camera at this point," Prompto pointed out. "And you can burn the pictures."

"I want your photos," Ignis said sharply from the next room. "All of them."

"All except one," Prompto corrected. When Ignis didn't reply he felt like a terrible person. "I know," he muttered to Gladio, whose expression was sorrow mixed with reprimand.

"I'll help you sort them," Gladio told him, and Prompto shrugged in agreement. He didn't think Gladio realized just how many there were. Boxes and boxes of printed-out pictures, and even more digital data. His life's work, he supposed. It seemed like such a small thing now. "You should let us tell people, now. They'd want to say goodbye. And," he lowered his voice and leaned forward, "Ignis is starting to go stir crazy."

"Sure," Prompto said, closing his eyes to make Gladio go away. "Plan me a kickass pre-wake."

Month 4

Despite his reservations, what Gladio arranged turned out not to be that bad. Visitors came in a steady trickle – never enough to be overwhelming, never staying with Prompto long enough to wear him out. There were games for the kids in the yard, and beer and barbecue, and Ignis cooked and baked as much as he could, as if expecting an army to drop in. Prompto thought that was alarming, but Gladio said to let him. It keeps people asking for recipes instead of how he feels.

Gladio put a bunch of camp tables together in the living room and upended boxes of pictures onto them, for visitors to sort into albums if they had a few spare minutes. Prompto had never been into gritty war photography or documenting wreckage and disasters; he liked portraits and wildlife shots and landscapes and animals being adorable. He could hear laughter as pictures were passed around, and people asking Gladio or Ignis for stories or explanations. Gladio let it slip that Prompto and Ignis had tied the knot, and there were congratulations after that , and people expressing regret that there weren't any wedding photos (Ignis found hard to bear with good grace or without correcting their misunderstandings).

Prompto had almost forgotten how close their community of survivors was. He'd let himself become isolated by illness, but he belonged to these people, with their quiet send-off messages. Wait for me on the other side, they said in lieu of goodbye. Say hi to my mother – my kid – my buddies.

"It's weird," Prompto told Cindy, after she told him to look Cid up for her and give him a big hug from his best girl. "I'm dying because I'm not human enough." She was one of the few people he'd trusted with that secret; she gave his hand a gentle squeeze now. "I don't even know if I can pass over."

She cut off that line of talk with a click of her tongue. "People ain't the only things with souls," she said, like that was an obvious truth. "You think there's no puppies and kittens in the beyond? Hell, I'm sure the prince's gorgeous car is there. He better not let you drive it." She dropped a kiss on Prompto's forehead to take the sting from her teasing. "You've got a pretty soul to match the rest of you. D'you remember that time..."

He did remember, that and all the other stories people kept reminding him of as they wandered in and out, sometimes clutching pictures. Memories swirled around him like a snowstorm, so much that he got lost a little at times. Which was okay: it distracted him from thinking about how he wasn't going to be making any more memories. No more roadtrips, no more hunting, no war, no camping out under the stars with Gladio, no fishing, no chocobos, no Ignis at his side or in his bed or touching his hair.

He got a lump at the back of his throat when he thought about how one day, suddenly, after Noct was dead and gone, he'd picked up his camera again and started taking pictures because life went on, even after the deaths of kings, and heroes, and villains, oracles and prophesied saviors, parents and friends and brothers by the thousands. Others would continue on after Prompto walked away, off to where the sky was always blue and the shoreline went on forever.

After a couple of weeks of friends paying their final visits, Prompto stopped being hungry. With Ignis distracted by all the activity, Gladio was the first to notice. Prompto shook his head at dinner, after having turned away breakfast and lunch as well, and Gladio bit down hard on his lower lip. He looked furious, but then he sat down on the far side of the bed, out of view from the front room, curled up, and cried into his knees. Prompto managed to reach over and pat his head in a way that hopefully felt consoling, leaving his hand there when his arm started protesting.

"So much for magical thinking," Gladio said finally, grabbing a facecloth from the bedside supply to wipe his face clean. "Shit."

Prompto took a couple of breaths; sometimes he couldn't figure out how to speak, other times he didn't have the coordination for it. He'd said all he wanted to anyway, mostly. But: "Ignis," he got out, and then when Gladio looked alarmed, managed, "not today. Tomorrow."

"Promise," Gladio said, with a superstitious fervor, like Prompto was committed, now, to sticking around one more day.

Maybe, Prompto thought.

He didn't wake up in the morning. He missed part of the afternoon as well, and only managed to rouse because he thought he heard his mother talking on the phone with his homeroom teacher again. He always got in trouble for skipping school. He should stop doing that.

But when he opened his eyes, Ignis was there instead. He had one earbud in to listen to something while he rubbed Prompto's fingers gently. Or at least that's what he seemed to be doing. Prompto couldn't really feel his hands or his feet. Probably something to do with how the cold had seeped in. Not that he minded: freezing to death was supposed to be a good way to go. Better than stabbing or daemons, anyway.

After a while, Gladio wandered in and noticed his eyes were open. He stared at Prompto in a weird way until he observed a blink, and then said, "He's awake."

"Oh."

Ignis fumbled to turn his phone off and get rid of the headphones. Gladio moved swiftly to do it for him, saying he had two working hands and, "Go make nice to your husband, I got this."

"It's not a real marriage," Ignis murmured, his stock response, before turning back to orient himself to Prompto. Gladio snorted the way he always did, and Prompto felt a bit lightheaded, as if in another time he'd be really pissed off around now.

"Is," he said, but then got derailed. Ignis was trying to tempt him into drinking something, and he had to say no to that. He was doing a crappy job of keeping alert, and he could feel everything around him starting to fade out again. But still. "This is real."

Gladio clapped a hand on Ignis' shoulder. "There." He rubbed soothingly, as if that could even put a dent in Ignis' stiff posture. "Kiss and make up." He gave Prompto a wink and then hitched a thumb over his shoulder. "I'll go put the coffee on."

Ignis kept quiet until Gladio started opening cupboards, and then in a rush he said, voice low and urgent, "You've always been my way through the darkness. You lighten my burdens and show me the world anew. I should have told you that, even though we forwent a proper ceremony and vows."

Prompto liked the sound of that; he thought he might be smiling. "Kiss," he reminded Ignis.

Ignis set his visor on the side table and then leaned over, timing his kisses to not get in the way of Prompto's labored breathing, each press of his lips gentle, a familiar comfort that eased Prompto back into the tide of his dreams.

Waking and sleeping became the same thing, and as the night passed Prompto became exhausted and restless at the same time. Simply breathing was a harsh effort, and time had come unspooled, or perhaps disconnected. He was freezing, Glacian ice inside his bones as the room around him wavered like a mirage on the road. He couldn't see the pictures on his wall in the glow from the nightlight, but he knew the memories were there, watching him. He was sorry.

Ignis, still seated at his side but dozing, stirred, and his movements to Prompto's eyes were like a disjointed rotoscope. One moment he sat, and the next he was standing over Prompto, touching his forehead and his hands, and then he was speaking, gone and there again.

"Hey," Prompto said, or tried to, but the person picking him up wasn't Ignis.

"Yes, we know." That was Ignis, sounding put-out. He was buttoning his black coat, and Prompto thought he could see rows of gold buttons for a moment, and the rain on his face. "Where's his hat?"

Gladio answered – Prompto wasn't paying attention – and then he was wrapped up in blankets and mittens and scarves, as if the cold wasn't already burning through his veins. Outside, the street was rough, and Ignis muttered in annoyance as they turned onto the path to the sea. Prompto leaned his head back against Gladio's strong shoulder and looked up. The stars were spinning and falling like fireworks, one of the most beautiful things he'd ever seen. He wished Ignis could see.

They came to a stop where the sand was dry above the high-tide mark. Ignis sat and Gladio passed Prompto into his arms, fussing before sitting down himself at Ignis' side, Prompto's legs in his lap. The waves hissed up the shore, the stars fell, and Ignis was talking steadily, words carried off by the wind like candle smoke up to the gods.

They were waiting for something, but Prompto couldn't remember for what. He was forgetting a lot. Sometimes he forgot to breathe, and Ignis rubbed his chest to remind him, his breath hot across Prompto's cheek, like fire.

Gladio rumbled something, and Ignis curled his hand around the side of Prompto's face, telling him to open his eyes, the sun was rising. Prompto watched the light limn the water with gold and his chest tightened, like Gladio was hugging him the way he used to, before... before. Ignis was still talking, and Prompto didn't want him to stop. He wanted so much that it hurt, and he couldn't even hold Ignis' hand in his own, or say anything. He'd wanted to say something.

He didn't remember what it was, staring out over the water until the chill wind raised goosebumps. He got up, rubbing his arms and stretching out limbs stiffed by cold, and started walking off along the shoreline. The path was familiar by now, but everything seemed clearer today: the sky brighter, the bridsong chirpier, the water clearer, sleek silver fish drifting through the depths. He scooped up a few stones and skipped them out as far as he could, and then clambored over some tumbled-down rocks in his way, taking a good look around from the top.

He'd never come this far before.

Just on the other side of a small creek was a jetty out over the water. It looked weather-worn but serviceable, and someone was sitting at the end, fishing. As Prompto watched, the man looked sharply in his direction, and then waved.

Prompto figured it was good to make friends in a new place, and he made his way over, calling hello when he got close.

"Don't scare the fish," the man called back, probably scaring the fish even more. He set his rod down and jumped to his feet, and suddenly Prompto knew who he was.

"Noct?"

He got a hug for that, tight and fierce. "Been a while," Noct said. "Or has it?"

"I don't know," Prompto said. He couldn't bring himself to feel worried about all the holes in his memory, not here with the fresh air and blue sky and Noct clinging like an octopus. "Days? Years? Does it matter?"

Noct took a deep breath and let him go. "Luna's going to want to ask questions," he warned. "But you'll probably have answers by then." He shrugged. "If not, you can play with the dogs, I guess."

Luna. "I always wanted to – " Prompto started to say, and then cut himself off with a laugh. "I guess I do remember."

"I missed you," Noct said. In this place he didn't look young or old, which Prompto thought suited him. He'd never had enough time; he'd had so much time stolen from him. "Didn't think you'd be the first of us to make it here."

"The second," Prompto reminded him. But he didn't like remembering that.

"Whatever." Noct put his hand on his shoulder and gestured at the lake. "Help me catch lunch, and we'll talk."

Prompto didn't recall enjoying fishing much, but he felt the familiar weight of his camera in his vest pocket. He slid it out like an old friend. It felt like ages since he'd taken a picture.

He pulled Noct close, cheek to cheek, and snapped a picture of them both, laughing, blue sky above and endless days before them.

end

(the soundtrack for the fic is here https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLRzef2XzKSy5t3skqsRzNTiofsdxgyRjh Thank you for reading!)

Authoranon, I'm crying and I can't stop. This story hurt me so much: Prompto having to die too soon, he and Iggy didn't get their chance to be together longer, Prompto reminding Noct that he was the first one to die... I loved how you wrote everyone, what you wrote, but at the same time I want to spend the rest of the day sobbing into my pillow.

Thank you for writing this.

*hugs you, hands you a baby chocobo chick* Thank you for reading, and I'm sorry for the tears. (That7s why it took me so long to finish writing!) <3 <3

I quite literally cried reading this, and maybe it's because I lost a close family member in a similar way a few months ago, but reading this was good because it felt more real than most times people write about death from lingering illness. I've read other fics where people die like this and they just made me angry for all their inaccuracies, but this one felt so much like my own experience (well, except less awful, but I don't want to read about awful haha) that I'm glad I read it, and I'm glad that they have an afterlife where they can be together.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 208 of 212

Prompt Post Round Five

Re: fill (6/?): Your Name AU

Re: fill (6/?): Your Name AU

FILL Ignis/OT4, student-on-teacher rape roleplay 8/?

FILL Ignis/OT4, student-on-teacher rape roleplay 9/?

FILL Ignis/OT4, student-on-teacher rape roleplay 10/?

FILL Ignis/OT4, student-on-teacher rape roleplay 11/?

Re: FILL Ignis/OT4, student-on-teacher rape roleplay 12/?

FILL Ignis/OT4, student-on-teacher rape roleplay 13/?

FILL Ignis/OT4, student-on-teacher rape roleplay 14/?

FILL Ignis/OT4, student-on-teacher rape roleplay 15/?

Re: FILL Ignis/OT4, student-on-teacher rape roleplay 7/?

Re: FILL Ignis/OT4, student-on-teacher rape roleplay 7/?

Re: FILL Ignis/OT4, student-on-teacher rape roleplay 7/?

Re: FILL Ignis/OT4, student-on-teacher rape roleplay 7/?

Re: FILL Ignis/OT4, student-on-teacher rape roleplay 15/?

Re: FILL Ignis/OT4, student-on-teacher rape roleplay 15/?

Re: Chocobros/other -- [NON-CON] sacrificing themselves for Noct

Fill (9/10) Any/Ardyn, demon summoning gone wrong

Re: Fill Prompto, problems with being a clone, postgame sickfic? "For What It's Worth" 2b/5

Re: Fill Prompto, problems with being a clone, postgame sickfic? "For What It's Worth" 3/5

Re: Fill Prompto, problems with being a clone, postgame sickfic? "For What It's Worth" 4/5

Re: Fill Prompto, problems with being a clone, postgame sickfic? "For What It's Worth" 5/5

Re: Fill Prompto, problems with being a clone, postgame sickfic? "For What It's Worth" 5/5

Re: Fill Prompto, problems with being a clone, postgame sickfic? "For What It's Worth" 5/5

Re: Fill Prompto, problems with being a clone, postgame sickfic? "For What It's Worth" 5/5