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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The important rules in short:

Post anonymously.
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Prompt, write, draw, comment, and most importantly have fun!

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

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

When the Titan, crouching in the foothills of what would one day be known as Cleigne, turned to the bright, burning meteor that roared through the earth's atmosphere, he didn't have time to think before he raised his arms to catch it.

The resulting crater was so wide that three villages had to flee in the night, the foundations of their homes buckling as the ground beneath them rippled and shook. Tremors swept out even to the Leviathan's lair, stirring her from her home in the deeps. The people of Cleigne and Duscae flocked to the meteor, that star that had fallen from the sky, and as they wondered what god had deigned to come to earth, a light in the heart of the meteor flickered to life.

They took the shape of a human, because all humans liked to see themselves in their gods, and stepped down onto the Titan's shoulder to look over the land below.

"What are those creatures?" they asked the Titan, holding onto one of the stones in the Astral's eye for balance. "The small ones, who called to me?"

"Humans," the Titan said. The new god tried on a frown of their own.

"What are they doing?" they asked.

"Living," the Titan said. "Praying that you will spare them."

"Oh." The god rolled their shoulders. "Should I?"

"That is for you to decide."

The god gave the Titan a look that seemed suspiciously judgmental for one so new, and dropped to the ground to find out.

When they came back a few hundred years later, the god had a name.

"They have this thing called summer," he said, sitting on the Titan's brow, the hem of his white robes trailing past his bare feet. He had hair now, black and thick, and a crown of leaves that bloomed with bright yellow flowers. "Sometimes they put on clothes made of grass, and they kill an animal with horns. I'm not sure why. But I walk into the middle of it all, and if I like the animal, I bless the town. It's very exciting. Do they kill animals for you?"

"No," said the Titan.

"I like them," the god said. "They call me Helios now. Helios, after one of their old stories. They're so creative, and small, and they have this thing called laughing, do you want to hear?" He laughed. "They just do it, sometimes, when they're happy. I wish I could know what they look like at night, but I'm the god of the sun now. Maybe you can tell me, if you can stay awake long enough to watch."

Then he laughed again, just for the sake of it, and fell away, returning to the people he'd come to love so much.

It would be thousands of years before the Titan would see him again, and it would not be the same.

---

"I don't trust this guy," Gladio said for the fifth time, as Noctis drove, teeth gritted, twenty feet behind the purple bumper of Mr. "Call me Ardyn's" beloved car. Prompto fiddled with his camera, skipping back and forth between the selfies their auburn-haired friend had taken, and stayed quiet.

He'd felt it a few times since their encounter with Loqi--that wrongness, the jarring feeling that something fundamental about the world had been flipped on its head, but he hadn't been able to pin it down. It happened when Imperial airships found them, roaring down out of an empty sky. It happened at night, sometimes, when Prompto woke in a panic, with nothing but Ignis' half-asleep murmuring and Gladio's hand on his chest to keep him from running. And it had happened a few minutes before, when Ardyn had stopped talking to Noct, smiled, and turned his gaze to Prompto.

"Your feelings on the matter are more than clear," Ignis said. Like he always did when Noctis was driving, he had his hand gripped tight on the Regalia's Oh Shit handle.

"If he wants to camp with us," Gladio said, "We're gonna have to set up a watch schedule."

"Or tie him up in his car," Prompto said. Noct snorted, the car jerked, and everyone lunged for their seat belts.

"No jokes," Ignis gasped. "Please."

"I was joking?" Prompto asked.

They stopped at a caravan for the night, well within the safety of the daemon-warding floodlights, and Gladio pulled everyone aside to divvy up watch assignments. Prompto was notorious for passing out as soon as the sun went down, so he was given the last watch, right before dawn. All the same, he resolved to stay up as long as possible, and sat out in the deck chairs with the others after dinner was done. He didn't last long. It felt like only minutes had passed before Ignis jostled him awake, pushing a sacred can of Ebony in his hands.

Prompto cracked open the can and blinked into the dark of the parking lot. The sprinklers at the edge of the outpost came on, setting off rainbows of mist against the blue haze of the daemon lights. The cat that lived in the convenience store was asleep on one of Gladio's open books, paws twitching. Prompto scratched her behind one ragged ear, and she purred like a broken motor.

"Dawn is some ways off," Ardyn said, and Prompto jumped. Ardyn was leaning against the caravan, ankles crossed, gazing out into the darkness.

"Nah," Prompto said. "Give it thirty minutes." Ten years of waking up early to run had given him an uncanny internal clock. Judging by the way the sky went grey at the edges, he could tell that the sun was due to rise soon enough.

"It truly is a blessed country," Ardyn said. "Or it was, before the empire came."

Prompto pushed his chair back and propped his boots on the table. Someone had draped a blanket over him in the night, and it slid down his legs. "I just woke up, dude. Give me a minute."

"I doubt you'll be truly awake for at least thirty," Ardyn said.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing."

Prompto nursed his Ebony, watching Ardyn as he shifted against the caravan for a better position. "Alright, fine. You said something about the empire?"

"Did I? Oh, yes." Ardyn tugged at his cuffs. "The empire seems to be obsessed with the gods, does it not? The emperor wants to be immortal, so the thought of other immortal beings running around free... It isn't comforting." He smiled at Prompto, as though sharing a joke.

"So the empire started killing them," Prompto said. "Yeah. Everyone knows about Shiva."

"Shiva, yes." Ardyn shrugged. "And the goddess of the harvest, the goddess of the hunt. The god of children--did you know there was one? The goddess of cats, the god of the sun..."

Prompto hunched his shoulders, a sick, twisted feeling rising in his stomach.

"But of course," Ardyn said, "there are still cats, children, and harvests. There are still hunters. And look! The sun rises." He looked Prompto in the eye. "Gods die, and the world moves on without them. Tell your friend to remember that, when he meets the Titan."

if you follow the canon story (with a happy ending maybe? pretty plese? xD) i wonder what will happen to prompto during the 10 years of darkness é.è

i'm so curious to see our first divine meeting **

a!a

Don't worry, I don't think I want this story to be a tragedy. Sunshine Prompto will change things considerably, that's for sure!

The trees that lined the entrance to the meteor were ash white and petrified as stone, joining ruined columns and the cracked remains of a shrine wall in a mimicry of the throne room of Insomnia. There was even a dais at the end of it, and the half-sunken tomb of a king. Noct stopped at the coffin, Gladio at his side, and lay a hand on the broken lid.

"Kinda sad, isn't it?" Prompto said, narrowing the focus of his camera. "All these kings and queens, they were just holding off the Scourge until Noct came around. They couldn't like, give up the throne and become an artist or something."

"No," Ignis said. "I expect they couldn't."

Prompto waited for the light of Noctis' ancestors to coalesce into the shape of his spectral weapon, and took his shot.

"Wonder what Noct would do, if he had the choice."

Ignis' voice sounded distant. "Fish, most likely. Take little jobs here and there. Keep a cat. A simple life."

"Yeah." Prompto put his camera away. "Yeah, I can see that."

They stood there a moment, side by side, Ignis' shoulder brushing against Prompto's as Gladio ran a hand up Noct's back. Then Noctis turned to them, and the glow of magic in his eyes faded as he beckoned.

"Back to reality, huh?" Prompto said, and the smile Ignis gave him was small and wan.

Then the earth fell beneath them.

It started with a horrible, grinding crack, and Noctis cried out, slipping backwards on a great sheet of stone that went toppling over the side of the cliff. Gladio was safe on solid ground, but he leapt off the edge anyways, half running, half sliding amid a cloud of white dust. Ignis lurched as though to follow, and Prompto hung onto his arms, holding him down.

There wasn't time to wait for the dust to clear. There was another tremor, stronger than the first, and Prompto spotted two figures at the base of the cliff go staggering behind a wall of stone as far below, the face of the Titan rose from the wreckage.

The ache in Prompto's chest felt less like fear than worry, and when the Titan swung his neck to squint through the dust towards the cliff, it was Ignis who had to hold Prompto back from the edge.

"He'll be after Noct," Ignis said. "We need to find a way down."

The Astral bellowed in a low, booming voice that made the brittle roots of the trees behind them rattle and shake. Then, as Prompto and Ignis started to jog down a sloping path that hissed with pockets of steam, the Titan set down his burden.

The sound of the meteor crashing to the earth was amplified in the crater, cracking and screeching and sending both Ignis and Prompto to their knees. They crawled for cover, unable to stand without falling, and by the time the shadow of the Titan's hand passed over them, it was far too late to run.

Prompto dimly heard someone calling his name as he was scraped off the earth in a shower of rubble and tree litter, borne high above the smoke and ash that coated the crater. He heaved himself up the palm that held him, and swung his legs over the Titan's thumb just as the Astral closed his hand into a fist.

Prompto gripped the ends of a thumbnail almost as large as he was, and stared into the weeping, wretched eye of the Archaeon.

---

"The fuck is he doing with Prompto?" Noct coughed, racing after Gladio under a tunnel of fallen branches. His whole body was on fire, muscles screaming with strain, and a furious headache pounded in his temples. "The fuck is he doing with Prompto?"

Gladio pulled Noct out of the way of a rockslide, and held him to his side, waiting for the next round of tremors to pass. Above them, the Titan was standing, legs bowed, fist raised to his face.

"You know what he's saying, Noct?" he shouted, and motioned for them to move, inching along a narrow shelf over a chasm.

"Sort of!" Noct grabbed at Gladio's sleeve as the Titan's voice tore through his mind, and groaned with the effort of trying to piece together the memories of learning old Lucian with his dad, years before. "Little. Little something. Little star."

The Titan spoke again, and Gladio had to grab Noctis in both arms as he tipped forward, narrowly making the jump to the other side.

"Little star," Noct said, as the echoes of the Titan's voice rumbled off the crater walls. "What have they done?"

---

"Dude!" Prompto shouted, holding onto the Titan's thumb for dear life over a several hundred meter drop. "I don't know what you're saying! I failed Old Lucian like, twice! I had to take make-up classes in Galahdian Studies!"

The Titan's voice rolled over him, and Prompto's teeth chattered.

"Look, I'm sorry!" Prompto cried. "I'm not the king! I'm not even the king's shield, or advisor, or anything! I'm just like... I'm a guy from East 33rd! I take photos! I like... I like dogs!"

The Titan lowered his thumb, and his hand started to tilt. Prompto's hands clenched on the nail, but when his legs slid over the side, the Titan shook him off, and he fell into the Astral's open palm.

By the time the giant fingers closed over him, Prompto barely had the breath to scream.

---

At last, a terrible silence settled over the crater. Noctis heard only the frantic thrum of his pulse in his temples and the beat of his footsteps as he and Gladio pushed themselves up a stretch of rock that emptied out at the Titan's feet. Ignis panted, red-faced, glasses fogged beyond use, and skidded down a sheer cliff-face to where Noctis and Gladio were waiting. And all three of them, in their own, desperate way, sent up a prayer to any god who would listen that Prompto would make it through alive.

And for once, a god answered.

Light started to creep through the lines of the Titan's fingers, specks of it, like the flickering glow of fireflies in late spring. The light billowed around the fist in a cloud of sparks, and the men below reeled back, hit with a force that brought with it the scent of warm rain and sweltering pavement, of clicking fans, of bicycle spokes, and the clink of ice in plastic cups.

It brought Ignis to mind of an afternoon sitting on his uncle's balcony, surrounded by crisp white shirts and bedsheets on the line. Gladio remembered grass clippings, the crinkle of old books and the smell of boot polish. Noct thought of exhaust and fried dough, and a hand that held his tight through the chaos of a festival, an anchor in the crowd.

The Titan opened his fist, and the man they knew as Prompto raised a hand to his eyes and laughed.

"Wow," he said, in the language of old Lucis. "Rude."

omg omg omg *_*

Be gentle with the smol boy Titan...! 'Little star' had me weeping.

So glad to hear this is OT4, that's my fav choice x) And damn, this made me realize how exponentially worse it's gonna be if Ardyn gets his mitts on Prompto. Niflheim's intentions could be so much worse than 'just chase him around a bit' :C

Do you plan to post this on AO3 when it's done? :)

(op again here)

a!a

Yeah, Ardyn is a bit more of a threat to Prompto this time around, all things considered.

I do plan on putting this up on ao3 when I'm done! :)

The body of Prompto Argentum sat cross-legged in the palm of the Archaeon. He conscientiously removed his vest, which was charred by the heat that radiated from his skin, and bent down to start unlacing his boots.

"This isn't very convenient, taking his body like this," he said. He pushed the shoes off just before the rubber started to melt. "I'm used to sharing, but he's only mortal. We have twenty minutes at most before it kills him."

"Then we will wait," the Titan said. His voice held the patience of the tides beneath the earth. "And when he dies, you will be free."

Prompto's eyes flared white. "Oh. Oh, no, you don't understand. I like him. He's mine."

He looked down at the men standing far below, and waved an arm. Heat rippled the air, and he pinched at a dust mote, turning it into a bright speck of light.

"They're all mine," he said.

A buzzing rose in the high air above the meteor, and the Titan's fingers curled, creating a wall around Prompto's body. "Your killers have come again, my star," he said, as imperial airships filled the sky like fat beetles, spilling their soldiers onto the smoldering earth. "They think to best me, before your king can form the covenant."

The god in the Titan's hand rose to his feet, bearing his mortal body to the edge of the Astral's palm. He smiled, and the spark of light he'd made bounced against another dust mote, creating a second spark, then a third, then a fourth, until a cloud of light swirled around his bare skin. When he spoke, steam hissed on his tongue, and his eyes burned with the fire that starved out trees, that cracked skin and bled rivers dry.

"I have fifteen minutes," he said. "That's more than enough time to take care of you, friend." He laid a hand on the tip of the Titan's finger, and bared his teeth. "Just remember, when it's done? Whatever plans you have for my boys, I found them first."

Then the Titan tried something new, something he hadn't done in all his time on Eos.

He laughed.

---

Noctis had heard of the trial of the covenants.

At twelve, he'd read the journals of one of his ancestors, who described the long battles she'd waged with the Astrals just for the chance to borrow their power once. He read of fists that could level cities, of a roar of rage that burst eardrums, of fire and ash and waterspouts that sent hardened warriors running.

He hadn't read of anything like this.

When Prompto dropped from the hand of the Titan, the light that surrounded his small form coiled together in a bright, blinding sphere. The stones at Noct's feet rattled, dragging across the ground, some lifting inches into the air, and Noct felt a pull in his own body, and had to brace his feet and grab Gladio's arm as an anchor.

The sphere of light slowed, and spirals of dust and debris circled it, forming perfect spirals in the air. Then the light broke apart, creating a golden haze that stung Noct's eyes, and Prompto Argentum dropped, naked, onto the earth at the Titan's feet.

"Oh, damn," he said. "He liked those pants."

"Prompto?" Noctis let go of Gladio, and skidded forward, drawn to Prompto as though pulled to him in a high wind. "The hell was that?"

Prompto grabbed Noct before he could crash into him, and laughed as Noct frantically started pulling off his jacket. "No, no, dear heart," Prompto said. "I'll ruin it. Keep it on."

"What the hell did he do to you?" Noct asked. "Are you... Possessed? Did he fuck with your head? What's your name, what day is it? How many fingers--"

Prompto rolled his eyes. "Not the time. As Prompto would say, you have the big guy to worry about." He pointed up, and Noct craned his head to see the Titan crouching down, fist raised for a crushing blow.

"Oh, shit."

"Here," Prompto said. He took Noct's head in both hands, and Noct winced at the heat that tightened his skin. "A blessing, for luck."

Then Prompto kissed him, and Noct's mind filled with light.

---

Prompto woke to the sound of humming.

It wasn't a very good melody, all things considered. The singer was about as tone deaf as Ignis, and they kept having to stop, double back, and try the same five bars again. If Prompto were able to speak, he might've begged him to stop. As it was, his throat felt raw, and there was an odd, oppressive weight on his chest, holding him down.

"Sorry about this," said the voice of his soul.

Prompto blinked. He was covered in almost every sheet and duvet from Noct's armiger, and Gladio was draped over him with an arm tucked around Prompto's heavily-padded middle. There was a tickling in Prompto's head, and the voice of his thoughts, the voice that echoed his own in quiet moments, spoke up again.

"I was trying to ease you into it," the voice said. "But, well. I suppose we don't have that kind of time."

Prompto felt his eyes close, and his mind burst with color as he saw himself, laughing into the Titan's ruined face. Himself, naked and cloaked in light, standing in front of an MT trooper. Snapping his fingers. Light streaking out through the cracks in the MT's armor as they collapsed in on themselves, rattling out an inhuman screech.

Noctis, his sword infused with the force of a small sun, shattering the arm of the Titan.

Then he saw... Himself, again. But he had thick, dark hair, white eyes, a wide expressive mouth. He was trapped in the pincers of a magitech claw, which thrummed and shook as Prompto tried to break free. With every burst of power he used to escape, the shaking grew stronger, until Prompto's unfamiliar body crumpled, and his corpse dissolved into ash.

A man with light blond hair and a thick robe stepped forward, and flipped a switch on the shuddering machine.

"Magnificent," he said. "Can you imagine, chancellor, what we can do with the power of the sun?"

Darkness. A blast of heat, and the scream of a child, then Prompto was in his own body again, his body at the age of six, sitting outside his apartment with an unwrapped popsicle in his hands. He watched a ladybug crawl across the mailbox post, and when it flew away to land on his sticky fingers, something in the back of his mind laughed in delight.

Prompto laughed, too.

"I was always there," said the voice, as young Prompto giggled, trying to guide the ladybug over his knuckles.

"Always," it said, as the image changed, showing a nine-year-old Prompto sitting alone in his classroom during lunch, flipping through his camera. His shoulders were hunched, head down, and he didn't notice how the light in the window shifted, stretching unnaturally far to glide over his desk. The shadow of a bird flying by startled him, and Prompto looked up in time to see a robin lighting on the windowsill.

He smiled.

He saw himself lying in the grass with the tinny sounds of a pop song rising from his earbuds, saw the way the sun made his face glow and his eyes shine. He saw the blossoms of the trees in his neighborhood turn as he passed, saw the morning glories open, one after another, in anticipation of his coming. He saw the sunflowers in he shrine, the stone in his hand, the look of shock in Noctis' eyes that slowly faded to awe. And underneath it all, through every memory of his waking life, he could finally put a name to the the joy that sang in the back of his mind.

Hey, he thought. I love you, too.

Prompto opened his eyes again.

Ignis sat at his side, shaking out a damp washcloth over a bowl. Noctis was on Gladio's other side, face illuminated by the screen of his phone. When Prompto tried to clear his throat, all three of them looked up.

"So," Prompto said, in a harsh, dry rasp. "I guess we need to talk."

--------

...... I guess this is technically an OT5, then...

so nice of him, worrying about prompto's clothes

a!a

He tried, at least. Gladio's boots, Prompto's pants... soon this may be a half-naked party.

I like the detail about the blankets. I suppose one would feel freezing after having had the power of a sun inside of you. XD

a!a

Thanks! Prompto is possibly the most bundled-up he's ever been in his life, and having space-heater-Gladio draped over him can't hurt, either!

Rain blanketed the chocobo post beyond the caravan windows, forming little creeks in outdoor stables and pooling in plastic chairs. Inside, Prompto sat with his back against the wall, a sleeping bag wrapped firmly over his shoulders, and held a mug of mint tea in both hands.

Ignis, sitting in a cheap wooden chair by the kitchenette, opened the oven door with his foot to check his croissants. The smell of butter and bread filled the room, and Prompto tried not to drool into his tea.

"They say there was a shrine to Helios in Insomnia," Ignis said, gently pushing the door closed again. "Did you ever go?"

"Sure," Prompto said. "I was three. Mom said I pulled my pants down and peed in the grass, so we couldn't go back."

"Not really godly behavior, Prompto," Gladio said.

"There were like, no restrooms there!"

"He's right." Prompto jumped as a pile of blankets revealed themselves to be Noctis, who had drifted off somewhere between Gladio's description of Helios' origins and Prompto's retelling of his entire life from the age of four. Now, Noctis flopped an arm over Prompto's leg and blinked at him muzzily. "I had to do the sun ritual when I was ten. Wore this giant hat and sat on a rock for hours. I looked like a nerd."

"Hey, dude, I didn't come up with that," Prompto said.

"And you looked fine," Ignis added. "So, Prompto. Does this happen often? Having your body, ah, borrowed by a god? Any fainting spells as a child, gaps in your memory?"

"Not really. Mom says I used to get fevers when I was a baby, but they stopped when I was a toddler. I guess the god kind of... got used to me."

"Doesn't seem right," Gladio said. "Gods shouldn't just use people like that."

"Uh," Noct said, and gestured to himself. "Hey, Gladio. Nice to meet you. I'm Noctis, official, ordained tool of the gods."

"Never said I liked that," Gladio muttered. Noct's eyes narrowed. "Look, I'm supposed to help you do your job. No one told me I had to stop thinking. Watchin' sunshine here turn into a human firework changed some things."

"Aw, dude," Prompto said. "You do care." He took a long draft of the tea. "But so does he. The, the god, I mean. It's not like I can always... hear him, I guess, but he's somewhere in the background all the time. And he likes you." He drew up his knees. "All of you."

"So when he kissed me," Noctis said, turning his unreadable gaze to Prompto, "was that him, or you?"

Prompto took a breath. He looked to Ignis, who was pulling the croissants out of the oven. Gladio, an arm around Prompto's shoulders, worry etched deep in the lines of his face. Noctis, strangely tense for someone half asleep, watching him. They always seemed so out of reach, chosen men with destinies Prompto couldn't hope to touch.

But maybe he could.

He opened his mouth to tell them, and a dog barked at the door.

"Umbra." Noct squeezed Prompto's knee, then rolled off the bed in a cascade of blankets and sleeping bags. "Sorry, Prom. Hold onto that thought."

"Careful," Ignis said, as Noct opened the door to find Lunafreya's dog, bag bumping his chest, standing at the caravan steps. Umbra barked and bounded off towards the edge of the outpost.

"I'll go with you," Prompto said, as Gladio got off the bed with a groan of springs.

"And get sick? No, you and Specs stay here." Noct pointed at both of them before disappearing behind Gladio's impressive bulk. "Royal order."

Ignis gave Prompto a small smile as the door slammed shut, and carried over a plate of croissants. He sat next to him, holding the plate out, but he kept an ear trained to the sound of distant barking.

"You'll have time to tell him," he said.

Prompto picked at the pastry. "I know you guys are close, Iggy. I feel kind of--"

"It's fine." Ignis' cheeks flushed the faintest pink. "I wouldn't begrudge you both some happiness, Prompto."

Prompto kicked Ignis' leg, and grinned at the look of consternation he got in response. "Doofus."

"Excuse me?"

"You didn't let me finish." Prompto sat up. "I wanted to say I feel kind of selfish. Maybe it's the god, or because everything's gone to hell, or because you guys all saw me buck naked already and there's only one way to go from there. But I don't just want Noct."

Ignis stared at him. The pink in his cheeks deepened, and his lips parted. For the first time since Prompto had met him, he was truly and utterly speechless.

It was a nice look.

Prompto placed a hand on his and leaned forward. Ignis met him halfway, and the plate between them clattered to the floor. Ignis kissed him hungrily, with none of the grace or reservation Prompto expected, and practically shivered when Prompto slid a hand through his hair.

Footsteps sloshed through the gravel outside, and Prompto and Ignis drew back, breathing hard, as the caravan door slammed open. Noctis stood there, Gladio at his back, seemingly not bothered by the rain that ran down their necks and flattened their hair.

"It's Luna," Noct said. "We just missed her. She woke Ramuh, and the empire knows. If we don't go now, they'll kill him."

Prompto disentangled himself from the sheets, and felt the stirring of what he now knew was the god in his mind. A fire ran through his nerves, pouring new strength in his exhausted body, and he rose to his feet.

"Very well," Ignis said, as Noctis pulled out the whistle for his chocobo. "Then it's a race."

-----
I promise this won't follow the events of the game so closely, but since storms and sunlight don't generally get along, Ramuh is kind of important. Here's where things start going off the rails, so to speak!

bur rain and sunshine bring rainbows ~~usually~~(✪㉨✪)

a!a

That's a very good point, anon. Lightning storms may be a bit chancy, though! XD

(OP again) Okay but I actually did headcanon that Prompto's clothes would burn up for naked fighting, but didn't want to put that in the prompt and scare people off ^^; So, you're perfect and can read my mind!

I did a little sketch, I don't know if I'll be able to finish it or anything but the image of naked Prompto with Noctis ready to tear his clothes off was too good x)

https://imgur.com/3ugBLE4

I'm loving every single update, thank you so much again for the loveliest fill! <3

a!a

That's such a good sketch! Oh my! I love Prompto's expression, and the way they're standing, and literally everything. I love everything.

I was a little unsure as to how the naked fighting scene would go over, so I'm glad that it matched your headcanon. Thank you again, OP. I'm so happy you're liking this story so far.

They made it within fifteen feet of the first mark of Ramuh when lightning struck. It hit the tree first, then branched off in a devastating arc to strike the ground at Prompto's feet, turning the earth into a twisted lump of molten glass. It struck again, sending Prompto flying back into the mud, raincoat bunched around his middle as he crawled backwards out of the way of another blast.

"What the fuck?" Noct shouted, and dove in front of Prompto just as another bolt broke from the sky. It narrowly missed them, turning aside at the last second to hit a nearby pine.

"Maybe I should keep my distance, dude," Prompto said. Noct shook his head.

"No," he said. "If I'm the king, I make the rules. This is like that Titan bullshit all over again." He got up, pulling Prompto with him, and they slowly approached the tree together. The tree that housed a portion of Ramuh's power sizzled and spat lightning in short, erratic bursts, the light in its heart flashing faster the closer they came. Finally, when they were within a few feet of it, a handful of tiny bolts shot towards Prompto, trying to snake around Noct. Just as the light made spots of black pop in Prompto's eyes, a pair of large arms enveloped them both.

"Self-sacrificing dumbass," Gladio said. He dragged them back, and Noctis tried to wriggle loose. In between them, Prompto was, for a moment, blissfully safe from the rain. Gladio kept his arms around him as Noct ran for the tree, and Prompto let himself sink into his hold.

Noctis placed both hands on the tree, and the light went out.

"Uh." Noct stepped back, and set his hand on the tree again. Nothing happened. No magical fire, no glowing light to show the covenant had been made. He tried knocking on the wood, but the tree just stood there, gnarled and twisted and about as divine as a piece of driftwood.

"Should that happen?" Noct asked.

Ignis started to speak, but his voice was drowned out in a crackle of magic as lightning shaped itself in the air around them, taking the form of an enormous robed figure standing over the mountain. The figure was more of a silhouette filling in the points the lightning made, a suggestion of a person, and when they bent their head to stare, it was hard to tell if they were looking at Noct or Prompto.

They spoke, in a voice that sounded like the hiss and pop of a shorting fuse. And in the back of his mind, Prompto heard a whisper in response.

He wants your prince to forsake our blessing, the god breathed. Noctis hunched over himself in his effort to handle the full force of Ramuh's demands in his head. Prompto thought it was pretty rude, really, the gods just pushing their voices through, even though Noct was supposed to be their chosen one. Helios was always soft, subtle, a quiet breeze to the great Astrals' maelstrom.

They never really cared much for people, he thought--or Helios thought. It was hard to tell, with Noctis shaking and groaning under Ignis' steady hands. Only the small gods took the time to know you.

Ramuh made his request again, this time to Prompto directly. The weak do the weak no favors, he said. You are no god, simply a mortal bearing the ashes of a forgotten sun. Placing a claim on the King of Light is to throw our divine will into chaos.

"No," Prompto said, and now he really wasn't sure if it was him speaking. He laid a hand on Gladio's chest and pushed away. "He's mine, and Noct is right. If he's the king, he makes the--"

The lightning that came from the sky this time was too swift to counter. It made for them in a terrible streak of purple and white against the grey sky, and Prompto felt Gladio grab him again, pushing him down to the mud-slick earth. The ground rolled as they fell, and Prompto closed his eyes for the blow.

It never came. He opened his eyes to see Gladio, his face in shadow, peering up at a strange dark wall that had closed over them just as the lightning struck. The wall shifted, spraying mud all over their legs and back, and the hand of the Titan lifted up in a fist, strands of lightning crackling over his knuckles. To their right, Noctis' eyes glowed violet.

"Yeah," he said, as the Titan reared up out of the earth, placing his back squarely between them and Ramuh. "How about we fucking don't."

---

It took a week for the storm to clear. They hid out in Lestallum with Iris, clinging to the walls as lightning struck and alleyways overflowed. More than once, Prompto tried calling on the power of the god within him, trying to conjure memories of bright winter days and sun breaking through thunderheads, but all he did was create a few sparks of light and turn all the water within a ten foot radius to steam. Noct suggested using him as an umbrella, but after their first attempt led to Noct's hair curling in the humidity, the idea was scrapped.

He still refused to make a deal with Ramuh.

"You don't know some of the shit he said," Noct told Prompto, when Prompto suggested, for the fifth time, that he just go to the Astral and talk. "Anyways, I already have two gods on my side. Who needs him?"

"It might fuck up their plans," Prompto said.

"Yeah, well." Noct cracked open a can of Ebony and passed it to Ignis, who was reading one of Gladio's books on the bed. "Maybe if they told me what those plans are, it wouldn't be an issue. Do you know?"

Prompto thought about it. "I think Helios wasn't that kind of god. He's pretty chill."

"Works for me," Noct said, and smiled.

That was another thing. It had happened so suddenly, this newest change, but Prompto felt like they'd only needed the slightest push for it to happen. When they'd stumbled into Lestallum, exhausted and filthy and smelling like ozone and magic, something shifted between them all. Touches lingered. Careful space was breached, heads lain on shoulders, legs tangled together on the couch of their room in Lestallum. Prompto woke more than once to Gladio's lips on his neck or Ignis' hands in his hair, and Noct was always with him, casually draping a foot or an arm over him at all times, like he was staking a claim.

With the storm keeping the empire's airships from landing near Lestallum, they had time to breathe.

Prompto knew the minute Ramuh had sunk back into his fitful sleep. He woke with all his senses sharpened, his skin thrumming with energy. He flopped onto Gladio, who grunted, grabbed him, and rolled over so Prompto was trapped between him and the mattress.

"Morning, sunshine," he mumbled. Prompto slid a hand up to Gladio's jaw and tilted his chin up, examining him closely. He was softer than he let on, which showed in light touches, in books of poetry he read in the car when he thought no one was looking, in the way his eyes seemed to gentle when he looked at the others over the fire. Prompto smiled.

"I always liked people like you," he said, quietly. Gladio's gaze sharpened. "You would have made a nice priest. Painted in white and yellow, with rings in your hair." He brushed a thumb over Gladio's lower lip, and Gladio's mouth opened slightly. "They knew that every field was an altar, every upturned face a shrine. They loved me, once."

Beside them, Noct mumbled in his sleep, and Ignis sat up on an elbow. "You're glowing, Prompto," he said, and waved a hand through a dust-fine stream of light.

Prompto sighed, and the light began to fade. Before it was gone, Gladio closed the space between them. Prompto's lips parted in a smile under his, and he carded his hand through Gladio's long hair.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"Any time."

Then he was gone, and Prompto was staring up at Gladio's flushed cheeks, a hand in his hair.

He shrugged. Gladio let out a huff of a laugh, but Prompto was already sitting up, kissing him properly this time, as the windows glowed with the light of the sun breaking through the last of the scattering storm.

ramuh stop bitching around... you're one of the astral that i actually like xD

(This one's angsty, but we'll be getting to Luna next time, so things will start to look up!)
-----

The night before they were due to set out from Cape Caem, Prompto woke in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, gasping around a cold hand of fear on his heart. The room they were staying in was newly rebuilt, all fresh cedar and sawdust, and Prompto’s feet scuffed on the floor when he finally extricated himself from Ignis’ death grip. Ignis grumbled and grabbed Noct instead, bundling him in his arms like a snorting, wheezing pillow, and Gladio sank into the warm spot Prompto left behind.

Monica was in the kitchen downstairs, poring over a map with Cor. They looked up at Prompto’s approach, and he flashed them what he hoped was a comforting grin.

“Can’t sleep,” he said. “Gonna take a walk outside.”

Monica fiddled with the new Hunter tag around her neck. “Stay within the fence,” she said. “Daemons spawn fast out here.”

Prompto gave them a lazy salute and pushed the door open with his foot. As soon as the warm salt air hit him, the same crawling dread that had jolted him awake crept through his mind. It was the wrongness he felt when the empire was close, but it seemed distorted, making his stomach churn as he stepped onto the gravel walkway.

He made it to the steps of the lighthouse when he heard it. Down below, out on the rocks that gleamed in the moonlight under a thin sheet of water, someone was sobbing.

He ducked under the fence. The cries were disjointed, all hitching breath and cut-off whimpering, and when Prompto tumbled down the side of the cliff, scraping stones underfoot as he fell, it sank to a series of sharp gasps.

I think I need you, Prompto thought, and there was a tickle in his mind again, warm and familiar. A wave crashed over the rocks, and the specks of foam that laced the air hovered, turning to steam as light slowly started to spread out from Prompto’s body. His clothes were steaming too, curling up at the edges, but he tried to ignore that as he walked towards the wretched figure on the stone.

The body of Loqi Tummelt was a wreck of new scars and old blood. His armor was gone, save for his red shoulder-cloak, and when he hunched away from the light, Prompto could see scratches on his hands. His feet were bare and filthy, and he glanced back at Prompto with eyes gone black.

“Loqi?” Prompto asked. Then, in a much different voice, “Lela?”

The goddess of the hunt, the coeurl from Prompto’s earliest dreams, blinked up at him from Loqi’s face.

“It’s all wrong,” she said. “It doesn’t work the way it’s supposed to.” She lifted Loqi’s hands to the metal collar at his neck, and tried to tug it down. “It doesn’t hunt the way it should hunt. It can’t even run properly.”

Prompto stared at Loqi’s scraped, dirty hands and feet, and crouched down. “They aren’t supposed to,” he said, but he could feel the god’s voice in his, guiding his words. “You can’t force them to live as we do.”

“It won’t die,” she wailed. She turned to Prompto, and a spark of gold shone in the center of her dark eyes. “Do you know how many of us they’ve taken? How many freed themselves? You tried to, didn’t you?”

Prompto felt a discomfort that wasn’t his own. “Once,” the god said. “But you know me. I’ve always had a fondness for humanity.”

“I don’t know how you escaped,” said the goddess. “But they’re hunting you. I’m—He’s hunting you. This child.”

“You should talk to him.” Prompto’s hand reached for Loqi’s face, and Loqi jerked away.

“They won’t let us.” Loqi’s fingers tugged at the collar again. “The humans who did this, they block our minds, keep us apart.” She made Loqi’s hands pull at Prompto’s shirtfront. “When they catch you, they won’t kill you,” she said. “Not this time.”

“They won’t catch me.”

The goddess shrugged Loqi's shoulders, hunching them like a cat's. "Maybe not," she said. "You feel... closer to what you were. The humans must not have forgotten you."

Then the blackness of Loqi’s eyes contracted, and he pushed himself away from Prompto, his limbs trembling. Prompto leaned down and extended an arm.

“Hey,” he said, and the voice of his god shivered through his own, echoing off the cliff. “It’s okay. We’ll help you.”

“The hell are you?” Loqi asked. He held up his arm to ward himself from the light pouring off Prompto’s skin, and let out a wail at his ruined hands. “Oh, no. Oh, gods. Where… what have I…”

“It’s gonna be okay,” Prompto said again. “Don’t—“

But Loqi was already scrambling back, sliding on the slick stones of the beach. Prompto rose to follow him, but he raced into the dark. Just before he disappeared, he stumbled, sobbed again, and sank to all fours. Prompto pounded after him, but when he reached the spot where Loqi fell, he was alone, the spray of the surf stinging his burning skin.

I suspected there was Helios' friend in Loqi :( It scares me to think what the Empire - Ardyn - will do to Prompto when they catch him. If they catch him?

a!a

Well, seeing as how sun god and sunshine boy are getting along quite well without any of the (clearly faulty, if Loqi is anything to go by) methods the empire has been using, they'll certainly be verrrry curious about their bond. So yeah, Prompto's going to have to be careful!

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Prompt Post Round Five

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