ffxv_kinkmeme | 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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One prompt per comment. Warnings for common triggers and squicks are encouraged, but not required.
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Keep prompts to a reasonable length; prompts should not be detailed story outlines.
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Prompt, write, draw, comment, and most importantly have fun!

(You can also check out our Pinboard for Filled or Unfilled prompts)

If you'd like to advertise a fill, head on over to the fills post! This is, of course, entirely optional.
New Prompts are Closed for this round. Please wait until 11/13/2017 for Round Six.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From: (Anonymous)

One night Prompto finds a poor little animal out all on its own in the dark. He takes it back to camp, but it won't go in, and once he gets a better look...oops. Daemon. The weird thing is, it's not attacking. In fact, the whole time he was talking to it, it listened. Now it'll do whatever he says. In fact, if he gets the chance to soothe them a little, any daemon gets weirdly docile. It raises a lot of questions, but hey, it comes in handy when they travel at night.

Totally unrelatedly, when that Ardyn guy shows up to guide them to Titan, he sure seems to listen to Prompto a lot more than most people are willing to. In fact, whenever Prompto suggests something, he seems to happen to want to do it. Even after it turns out he's the Chancellor of Niflheim, he keeps showing up to say hello and get a little more attention. He just finds something about being around Prompto very calming. It's like he can think a little more clearly, and remember a little of who he used to be. The guys are weirded out at first, but hey, Prompto has him wrapped around his finger.

Eventually they figure out why.

But by then, Prompto's gotten attached.

+ Prompto touches him casually a lot, and he melts every time
++ "Prompto, stop scratching the Niflheim Chancellor's chin." "Aw, but look how happy he is!"
+++ Somewhere along the line, given how much Ardyn adores Prompto's touch, it leads to sex
++++ They figure out a way to calm or cast out the daemons entirely. But once they're gone, will Ardyn's feelings for Prompto remain? (Spoiler: yes.)

From: (Anonymous)

THIS IS EVERYTHING I WANT?!

From: (Anonymous)

slams fist down THIS IS THE PROMDYN CONTENT I NEED. YES!!!

From: (Anonymous)

I'm so on it, buddy. :D

From: (Anonymous)

“I don’t know how to tell you this, Prompto,” Ignis said, in a soft, horrified voice, “but you may have befriended a daemon.”

Prompto Argentum crouched on his toes, holding a carrot in one hand and his camera in the other, and looked at the miniature deer stamping at the edge of the haven. Its tiny hooves were caked in sand, and its stubby nose quivered as it rocked forward, reached the daemon-repelling runes of the haven, and fell back again. Its button tail wagged furiously, and it blinked wide, liquid eyes up at Prompto.

“But it’s just a Quay deer,” Prompto said. “It… It’s shy.” He clicked his tongue and waggled the carrot, and the deer made a noise of distress.

Ignis sighed.

Prompto had found the deer standing off to the side of a herd of the tiny creatures on their way back from a late night fishing trip. Every time the poor thing approached the main herd, the other deer would scatter in a frantic thumping of hooves, and Prompto felt so sorry for it that he inched up to it, hand out, and cooed nonsense until it turned its gaze to him. It had watched him warily, body poised to leap, but when Prompto finally reached it, murmuring How good you are, you cute little buddy, my best dude, it stepped forward and butted its head against Prompto’s palm.

Then it had followed them, twining around Prompto’s heels as he took picture after picture, until it had stopped at the haven, blocked as though by an invisible wall.

Ignis moved around the camp stove and pulled out his knife.

“Woah,” Prompto said, dropping the carrot. “Iggy, hold on.”

He became aware of a faint hissing sound before him, and Prompto turned back to the miniature deer. It braced its chubby little legs on the stone, and opened its mouth wide, then wider, then wider still, its jaw unhinging as it revealed only inky blackness where its tongue should be. The hissing grew louder, and the sharp fangs and yellow eyes of glistening snakes began to pour from its open maw—

“Hey!” Prompto said. “Stop that.”

The snakes retreated. The daemon-deer’s jaw clicked back into place, and it shut its mouth.

Ignis took another step forward, and the hissing started up again.

“No,” Prompto said. He picked up the carrot. “Don’t do that, little dude. No snakes.”

The deer ducked its head and backed into the dark. “I didn’t say you should go!” Prompto called, and would have clambered after it if it hadn’t been for Gladio’s firm grip holding him back.

“Right,” said Noctis, in the silence that followed. “I’m having nightmares for weeks.”

Gladio waited until it seemed like Prompto wasn’t about to lurch right into a pit of daemons disguised as animal sidekicks from a children’s movie, and let him go. Prompto sat down heavily on the stone. In the distance, they could hear the small thumping of hooves on sand, and subdued sounds that could, in theory, come from a mouthful of snakes.

“I believe I might need some wine,” Ignis said.

“I think I might join you,” said Gladio.

Prompto only sat there, staring down at his own hands as the daemon deer stumbled around in the dark beyond, hissing in shame.

A few days later, Noct was dragging the three of them out on a hunt in the middle of the night when Gladio spotted the imp.

It was lurking behind them, gibbering softly to itself, its sharp claws gleaming in the light of the moon. Ignis groaned and directed Noctis to ready a fire spell: If there was one imp, chances were there would be at least a dozen more, waiting to spring out as soon as their guard was down.

“This is the fifth time we’ve had to fight these guys,” Noct whispered. “I’m so sick of this.”

“Too bad they aren’t a bunch of Quay deer,” Gladio said. Prompto looked from him to the imp, and Gladio made a cut it out gesture with one hand. “Hold it, Prompto. That wasn’t a suggestion.”

“Let me try, okay?” Prompto said. “Maybe they’re like… I dunno, like animals or something.” He crouched down, looking directly at the imp, and Gladio covered his face with a hand. “Hey, little guy. Hey, how are you?”

The imp narrowed its eyes.

“Yeah, you’re being so smart, tracking us all this way,” Prompto said, practically crawling forward. “Such a clever guy, huh? My friend Ignis is pretty smart, too.”

“Please,” Ignis said, “Do not compare me to an—“

“And you know what’s even better than that?” Prompto said. “Better than following us or killing us? Leaving us alone. You know? Don’t you wanna, oh, hide in a cave somewhere? Sun’s coming up in a few hours, and you don’t wanna be caught in the sunlight, do you?”

The imp, to Prompto’s shock, shook its head.

“I wouldn’t want that, either,” Prompto said. “So how about you and your friends, you all go and keep yourselves safe, huh?” The imp hesitated, and he added, “It would make me feel better if I knew you were all together, buddy.”

The sagebrush surrounding Prompto rustled. One by one, emerging like fiddler crabs in the dark sands of the beach, imps scuttled into view. They kept a wide circle around Noct, Gladio, and Ignis, but crowded up near Prompto, who had to flap his hands at them before they would skitter away. He kept waving, shooing them as one or two turned back to stare, until he was alone in the imp-less patch of desert.

“I can’t believe this,” Gladio said.

“I got it all on video,” whispered Noct.

Prompto walked back to them, trying to hide the wellspring of panic that built in his throat at the thought of all those daemons jostling for attention before him. “Looks like it worked!” he said, in a voice that was a little too high. “Maybe it’s just my charming nature, right, guys?”

“Maybe you can try it on one of those red giants next time,” Noctis said, but Prompto had the sneaking suspicion that he was only half joking. He scanned the horizon, which was mercifully free of imps, and ran a shaking hand through his hair.

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, maybe I can.”

From: (Anonymous)

IT'S SO CUTE. HOW

From: (Anonymous)

wHAT THE---

PROMPTO, CONTROL YOURSELF.

(this is so good wtf. looking forward for more!)

From: (Anonymous)

THIS IS AN AMAZING START oh my god poor Prompto is so freaked at the end there (but also I kinda definitely wanna see him talk down a red giant I'm sorry Prompto but I would). This is great, and I can't wait to see more!

From: (Anonymous)

OH GOD PROMPTO DO NOT PET THE SNAKEMOUTH DEER!

This is amazing and I want about a million chapters of this please!

From: (Anonymous)

“Hey, Noct!”

Prompto leaned over from the passenger’s seat of the Regalia, pointing to an overpass approaching on their right. “Can we stop for a photo?”

“Don’t think that’s possible, Prompto,” Noct said through gritted teeth. He kept his eyes locked on the mauve and white car driving sedately ahead of them. “This Ardyn guy says I gotta stay in sight, so I’m staying in sight.”

“Maybe we can ask,” Prompto said. In the back seat, Ignis lunged for a can of Ebony. “I mean it. Look, just drive next to him, it won’t be an issue.”

“Do you want to die?” Noct asked, but he groaned and slammed on the gas anyways, sidling alongside Ardyn’s car. Ardyn slowed down, and gave Noct a curious look.

“I did ask that you not overtake me,” he said. Noct rolled his eyes.

“It’s not him, it’s me,” Prompto said. He hung out the window, leaning so close to Ardyn’s car that he could reach out and grab the door handle. “There’s this really cool canyon up ahead, and the lighting’s perfect for a photo. I know you guys have some kind of car-related pissing contest going on—“ Gladio snorted, and Ignis kicked him in the shin. “But I swear, it’s just gonna be a minute.”

“Prompto,” Ignis whispered. “He isn’t one of your Quay deer.” Prompto blushed, and Ardyn raised an eyebrow, looking him over.

Quay deer had been officially adopted as another term for Whatever Weird Shit Prompto Can Do To Daemons, which was actually quite a lot, once Prompto put effort into it. It helped when the daemons they encountered weren’t actively trying to kill them, of course. After an attempt to quell a red giant by shouting, “Maybe you shouldn’t!” while it was backhanding Noct only led to Noct being front-handed, the others tried shoving Prompto into the line of fire first.

Turned out that red giants reacted really well to wheedling.

So, apparently, did Ardyn.

“Oh, very well,” he said, and Prompto grinned. “For his highness’ collection.”

They parked on the bridge, and Prompto got out into the middle of the road, almost causing a traffic accident as he set up his tripod. Ardyn stood off to the side, watching him as he directed his friends to where the light would best hit them, and tugged his hat down over his dark purple hair.

Almost the same color as his car, Prompto realized.

Which looked pretty good in the light coming off the edge of Ravatogh, come to think of it. Prompto waved a hand, and Ardyn glanced up.

“Can you lean on your car?” he asked. “It’ll make a really good shot if you—not there. A little to the left. Right, yeah, and can you tilt your head…” He stopped, and stepped away from the tripod. It was a problem, he knew, and Gladio had slapped his hand more than once when he tried to arrange his friends like they were dolls just for the sake of a photo, but some habits died hard. Prompto placed his fingers under Ardyn’s chin and nudged his face to the side.

“Prompto,” Noct whispered.

“Oh. Oh, shit, sorry,” Prompto said. He yanked his hand back, and Ardyn blinked. His eyes looked nearly gold up close, and his cheekbones were delicate and rounded, like Noct. “I get kind of carried away sometimes. Um.”

Ardyn’s lips were slightly open, and his brows lowered in bewilderment for all of a second before he shot Prompto a sunny smile.

“No need to worry, dear boy,” he said. “Far be it from me to impede you in your work.”

He kept his head tilted the way Prompto had moved it, though, so Prompto took the shot anyways.

“Thanks,” he said. “You were great.”

Again, there was a brief moment of confusion, which Ardyn hastily covered with a smirk. “Any time, of course,” he said. “May I?” He held out his hand for the camera, and Prompto passed it over. His fingers brushed along the ridge of Ardyn’s knuckles, and he felt a shiver at the contact. Ardyn winked at the camera and snapped a selfie.

“There,” he said. “Perfect.”

Thanks to the sudden photoshoot, they barely made it to their destination before sunset. Prompto hopped out of the car and stretched his legs while Ardyn and Noctis debated over where to set up camp. Ardyn was opposed to camping at a haven, which meant that for once in his life, Noctis had become an avid outdoorsman who couldn’t sleep unless it was in a tent under the stars.

“Hey!” Prompto said, swinging an arm around Noct’s shoulders. “How about we grab something to eat? Iggy’s fighting with the oven in the caravan, and I’m dead on my feet, dude.”

“Too much diner food in my life, Prom,” Noct said, at the same time that Ardyn said, “Well, I’m hardly hungry, but I can certainly accompany you.”

Noct and Prompto stared at Ardyn.

“Huh,” said Prompto, after a second. “Sure. Let me know if you need anything, right, Noct?”

Thirty minutes later, Prompto leaned back in his booth, kicking his feet up on the chair opposite. “You’re kidding,” he said.

“I am entirely serious,” Ardyn said. Prompto’s foot pushed against his leg on one side, but he didn’t seem to notice. He gestured to the drawing of Kenny Crow on the protective paper over the diner table. “This method of advertising was created in the Mech Age, when Astrals were used to sell things like, oh, toiletries, weapons…”

“And fries,” Prompto said, using one of his own to point at Ardyn. “But I don’t see how someone could look at Bahamut and come up with the design for Kenny Crow.”

“Nevertheless, it’s true,” Ardyn said. “You, my dear Prompto, have spent the past twenty years of your life eating off the face of one of the most revered so-called gods in the universe.”

“Wow,” Prompto said. “I almost feel bad for being scared of him for so long.” He glanced out the window, where he could see Gladio and Ignis talking under the caravan awning. “We should go. You sure you don’t want anything to eat?”

“The atmosphere is enough, thank you,” Ardyn said. Prompto snorted and swung his legs back down. He scooted out of the booth, and, without thinking, placed a hand on Ardyn’s shoulder, just like he would with one of the guys.

“Sorry,” he said, and quickly pulled away.

“No,” Ardyn said, his voice coming out quick and short. “No, that’s. That’s quite alright.” He stood, and pressed a hand to the small of Prompto’s back, gently guiding him out of the diner. “Now, you were saying that you wanted to be a photojournalist?”

“I can’t believe he’s really the enemy, though,” Prompto said two days later, as he, Gladio, Noct, and Ignis huddled around a table at the Wiz Chocobo Post. He slipped bits of his burger bun down to a round, beady-eyed chocobo chick that had taken residence at his feet, and smiled at the faint horking sound it made as the bread went down.

“I can,” said Noct.

“But I don’t know, he was nice,” said Prompto.

Ignis looked up from where he was brushing soot off his only spare suit. “Prompto,” he said. “Need I remind you that just a week ago, you said that a mindflayer was, and I quote, Not that bad?”

“It wasn’t,” Prompto said, and the others shuddered. “No, really. The tentacles weren’t even slimy, and it was like it just wanted to shake hands but had, you know, too many hands to do it with—“

“I’m not having this conversation a second time,” Noct said. “Anyways, Ardyn Izunia, of Niflheim, stole our fucking car, so you’ll forgive me if I don’t think he’s nice—Oh, fuck my life.”

The umbrellas over the dining area of the Chocobo Post whipped into a frenzy as a top class Niflheim airship roared over the trees that lined the road. The red fire of its engine made the squawking chocobos look orange, and when the bay doors slammed open, Noct and his friends were already on their feet with their weapons drawn, preparing for the clatter and creak of Magitech armor hitting the street.

Ardyn Izunia stepped out of the airship, hips swaying as he strode down the metal walkway.

“Hello there!” he called. “It seems I have recovered your vehicle!”

Noct lowered his weapon. Gladio raised his, stepping in front of Noct, and Ignis cast a wary look to Prompto, who crossed his arms.

“There you go,” he said, as Ardyn bowed them towards the waiting Regalia. “Nice.”

From: (Anonymous)

BAHAHA ARDYN DOESN'T KNOW WTF

I am so in love with this fic; it gives me life. Prompto trying to argue that a mindflayer is just trying to shake hands.......brilliant, absolutely brilliant.

From: (Anonymous)

A!A

The mindflayer's just super friendly, that's all! :3

Ardyn is so confused. None of this makes sense, bless him.

From: (Anonymous)

Demons Inside Ardyn for the past 1,000 years: SSSSSSSSSAAAHHHHH, DESSSTROY, FUCK 'EM UP FUCK 'EM AAAALLLLL UUUPPPPPPP

Demons Inside Ardyn five seconds after making eye contact with Prompto: ........SSSSSSHIT, HE'SSSSS CUTE, NEVERMIND, ABORT, NEVERRRMIIIIINNNNNNNDDDD--

From: (Anonymous)

A!A

I'M DYING LAUGHING, ANON
THIS IS PRETTY MUCH EXACTLY WHAT'S HAPPENING IN HIS HEAD

OH MY GOD

From: (Anonymous)

This is absolutely perfect anon, omg

From: (Anonymous)

Dude. OP here, and let me tell you just how ridiculously spoiled I feel when not only do I immediately get a fill, it's literally everything I could have wanted. The cute little horrible snakemouth Quay deer! I absolutely love the building creepiness running up against Prompto just going "Stop that." Comic timing's not an easy thing to pull off in text. Also love Noctis being all "well I'm never sleeping again," and Prompto reasoning with the imp, and Ignis not being real thrilled about the comparison, and Noct taking video, and Prompto pulling it off without a hitch but then being freaked out because why did that work. But it makes sense, really, because you keep it all centered on Prompto's compassion. And hey, he's always trying to keep people's mood up, even when he's anxious at heart, so he's got some practice.

I also love "Quay deer" as a shorthand, because I am an absolute sucker for characters having bits of their own language between each other, especially because these guys would totally do that.

And Ardyn! Oh my god, Ardyn's perfect. I love his subdued and yet very telling reactions, and his winky selfie, and the literalist red giant, and the handshake mindflayer, and contrarian Noct suddenly being real into camping. I cracked up at the idea of the Astrals being used for advertising, and that developing into Kenny Crow. The image of Prompto getting his face into just the right angle for the shot is wonderful. And Prompto's notion of what a nice guy Ardyn is being justified! (Sort of.) Seriously man, I am loving this.

From: (Anonymous)

A!A

Thank you, OP! I'm so pleased you like this. It's really fun to write Ardyn being the one who is utterly bewildered, as that's not a state he tends to be in. Thank you so much for the prompt!

From: (Anonymous)

Wherein things escalate.

----------

Even Prompto had to admit it was starting to get kind of weird. Ardyn was a thorn in their side before, showing up to smirk at Noct and throw coins at people like money-hurling was something totally ordinary and not at all a sign of someone who didn’t know the basic rules of common decency. Which, according to Noctis, started with throwing fucking coins at people and ended with stealing my dad’s fucking car. But after the car stealing fiasco, when Noct summoned three of his ancient weapons at once and Prompto had to get between him, Gladio, and Ardyn while Ignis quietly planned Prompto’s funeral in advance, Ardyn just wouldn’t go away.

He was at Old Lestallum when they stopped to try out the diner food at the original Crow’s Nest. He was walking along the slough of Duscae when Prompto wanted to take pictures of the catoblepas, and was the only one who posed long enough to get right under the monster’s tusks without running for it. He was in Lestallum listening to musicians play at the outlook. He was at Galdin when they stopped in for an actual hotel bed.

It always started out the same: He and Noct would snark at each other, his voice oozing with good will that was probably just a thin cover for the weirdest non-rivalry Prompto had ever seen. But then, after Prompto had talked to him a bit, the mocking edge disappeared from his voice. He still talked like a used car salesman with years of etiquette lessons, but his expressions changed more, and he seemed more open. He had the kind of morbid, self-deprecating humor that made Prompto crack up but caused Ignis and Gladio to shift uncomfortably—Maybe it had something to do with Prompto’s recent crash-course in daemonology. Talking a flan into calming down long enough to be patted like a giant, misshapen dog did things to people. So did making spider-women laugh, or convincing a naga to turn Noct into a frog just for kicks.

Noct still hadn’t forgiven him for that one.

“It wasn’t always like this,” Ardyn told him one afternoon, when he just happened to be passing by Galdin on his way through Leide. He was accompanying Prompto up the side of the hill while Gladio glared them down from the dock, where Noct was slowly fishing the waters of Galdin dry. His hat had been tucked under his arm after the first gust of wind nearly sent it flying, and his mauve hair kept getting in his eyes. “Galdin used to be a farming village. Do you see the way the cliffs are shaped?”

Prompto followed the line made by his hand. “Like steps, sort of?”

“Exactly. One of my—An advisor to an old Lucian king arranged the whole affair. The beach was a mite further away at the time, as you can imagine.”

Prompto grabbed at Ardyn’s hand, and hauled himself up over a rock made slippery with moss. “Did they have the little deer around here as well?” he asked. The herd they’d come across earlier was a bit smaller than it had been last time, and Prompto was starting to worry.

“I certainly never saw any,” Ardyn said. Prompto squinted at him, and he flashed another one of those quick smiles, the ones Prompto was starting to suspect were his version of an awkward laugh. “In my records, that is. I’m only a historian as a hobby, dear Prompto.”

“Yeah,” Prompto said. “Sure.” He sat down against another cliff-face, and draped his arms over his knees. “Ardyn. If I ask you something, can you answer me honestly?”

“Can I—of course, my d—“

“Not like that,” Prompto told him, and Ardyn’s smile froze. “I mean… isn’t it kind of exhausting? Doing the whole, my dear, my sweet, hell-o-o-o dear Noctis thing?”

“It isn’t a thing,” Ardyn said, sitting next to him. He adjusted the fit of his jacket so the sleeves wouldn’t ride up his arms, and looked down, to where Noct was dragging a massive fish out of the water.

“You only dear Prompto me when you’re hiding something,” Prompto said. “I just want to know. If I ask you a question, can you answer me straight?”

“I’m afraid I might,” Ardyn said.

“And that’s a bad thing?”

Ardyn looked at him then, eyes narrowing in a question Prompto knew he’d never ask. Prompto lifted a hand, as warily as he would when facing down an unknown daemon, and brushed Ardyn’s hair out of his eyes.

“Why are you following us, Ardyn?” Prompto asked. His fingers slipped through Ardyn’s hair, kneading it gently. Ardyn blinked so slowly that it seemed as though he were about to drift off. “You’re supposed to be a chancellor, right? Why are you here?”

He didn't want to say it. Never mind that Ardyn was letting him stroke his hair, or that he was always pushing up against him, reaching out to him, sinking into every touch. Never mind that he treated his snide back-and-forth with Noct like an afterthought, these days. Prompto wasn't about to make a fool of himself just because Ardyn was... was nice.

“I don’t know,” Ardyn said, in a listless drawl. “This is all very irregular. Perhaps…”

“Yeah?”

Ardyn stared at him for a moment, searching Prompto’s face. Then he held the hand that carded through his hair, and kissed him.

Prompto could count on one hand how many times he’d been kissed in his life. The terrible house party in tenth grade. His high school graduation. A few practice make-out sessions with Noct, back when Noct was worried that his not-very-mysterious-crush would kiss him once and decide that was it, no sex ever. Nothing serious.

Prompto’s foot slipped, and he fell against a tree root as he tried, to the best of his ability while falling over himself, to kiss Ardyn back. He felt a knee part his thighs, a hand glide up to his neck, and something like a smile curving against his lips as Ardyn’s stubble scraped along his cheek.

“I don’t understand this,” Ardyn said, when he’d left Prompto panting for breath in the coarse grass of the cliff. “It’s like coming out of a fog.” He kissed Prompto’s jaw, and murmured into his neck. “Learning to walk again.”

“Hey,” Prompto said. “I like you, too.”

Ardyn laughed at that, soft and just a little hysterical, in Prompto’s opinion. “I apologize,” he said. “I was too forward. What’s the custom, now? It used to be that one would gift a bard to their intended, but I understand that it would be seen as problematic for the chancellor of Niflheim to, oh, grab a musician off the street—“

“Dinner works,” Prompto said. “I wouldn’t know what to do with a bard if I had one.”

“I kept mine in a house in the country,” Ardyn said.

Prompto waited for the inevitable smirk to appear. It didn’t. “You’re serious,” he said. “You actually kept a… is that a thing people do in Niflheim?”

“Not anymore,” Ardyn admitted.

“Who gave you—how do you even—“

“Dinner first,” Ardyn said. “Then I might… Ah, that machine of yours is screaming again.”

Prompto yelped, suddenly aware of the buzzing of his phone, and Ardyn sat up as he fished it out of his back pocket. Noct. Why was Noct calling? Prompto swiped the phone on and held it to his ear with his shoulder.

“Noct, I’m kind of bus—“

“The fuck, Prompto?”

Prompto looked down to the dock, where Ignis was standing with his back to them, one hand on his forehead, Gladio was grinning wide enough for even Prompto to see, and Noct was hunching over his phone with the look of the truly betrayed.

“I can explain,” Prompto said. Behind him, Ardyn sighed.

“Yeah,” said Noct. His voice was tinny and loud in the silence of the cliffs. “Yeah, you’d better. This isn’t like giving a goblin your leftover tofu, Prom—“

Ardyn’s brows knit together. “How would one get close enough to try such a thing?”

“Tell you later,” Prompto hissed.

“This is the fucking chancellor of Niflheim!” Noct shouted.

“Is he putting me below a goblin in his list of acceptable people to court you,” Ardyn said, “or am I misunderstanding something in his unique train of thought?”

“Woah, you’re right,” Prompto said. “Noct, dude, I don’t think I’m ready to make that step. I only graduated from imps like, two months ago.”

“Prompto,” Noct said, in the voice of a man on the edge. “I’d rather you made out with a sack of daemons in a suit than this guy—“

Prompto could have sworn that he heard Ardyn mutter something like, That can be arranged, but let it slide. “Okay, Noct. Buddy. Calm down. I’ll be down there in a second.”

“I’m not a fucking Quay deer,” Noct moaned.

“Not like we didn’t see it coming, though,” said Gladio, and the line went dead as Noct rounded on his shield.

“So!” Prompto turned to Ardyn with his brightest, fakest smile. “You want to head down and watch Noct self-combust with me?”

“Oh, Prompto,” Ardyn said, taking his hand. “Nothing would please me more.”

From: (Anonymous)

I...this is so perfect there are so many lines that are just so perfect you are amazing thank you

From: (Anonymous)

I've retread this like four times and in the midst of all the awe and wonder I feel for this gift of a fic, and the sweet, sympathetic way you write Promdyn, it's the details that make it so beautiful.

Like the fact that THAT PRECIOUS LITTLE DEMON QUAY DEER is EATING the OTHER QUAY DEER omG

From: (Anonymous)

ARDYN YOU SMITTEN TRASHBAG

AAAAAAHHHHHHH I LOVE EVERY SINGLE PART OF THIS!!!

From: (Anonymous)

Let's look at this from another perspective...

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Ardyn Lucis Caelum, the King of Light and sacrificial lamb to the Starscourge, had been dead for nearly two thousand years.

He wasn’t certain when it happened. It could have started the first time he pulled the Scourge out of a living host. It could have been the day he laid hands on a daemon and felt it pour into his flesh like water through a sieve, bringing with it all the pain, the helplessness, the singular misery of what had once been a human as they felt their own soul succumb to the plague. It could have been when his brother took the throne that had rightfully been his. It could have been when he lowered himself to beg at the Astrals’ feet, two hundred years old and desperate for an ending.

But somewhere along the line, the man Ardyn was had slipped into the twisting, roiling consciousness that was the Scourge he’d consumed. For a few hundred years, he would have moments of lucidity, scant minutes when he’d blink awake to find himself in a new country, a new identity, looking up at a new pattern of stars. Then the insistent roar of the Scourge would drown out all clear thought, pulling him back into an in-between state, a sleepwalker driven by spite and the residual yearning to see it end.

Then Prompto Argentum, the awkward, wide-eyed sharpshooter with Verstael Besithia’s young face and shoulders too broad for a typical ranged-fighter MT, seemed to have dragged the old king back to life. Prompto could have slipped through the crowds of old Lucis with little trouble: He reminded Ardyn of the old priests and priestesses of Eos, who lived before the first wave of the Scourge obscured the sun. They were a strange, mixed-bag of people. Some were artisans, some poets, others were scientists or soldiers or servants working in the palace. The commoners called them sun-touched, though Ardyn could never tell if they meant that they were blessed with madness or magic. He’d seen the latter. One woman had talked a river into changing its course during a spring flood. A young man who worked with chocobos could carry entire conversations with them, and trained Ardyn’s own mount when he was first crowned. He knew of people who could speak written word to an illusory half-life, of people who could tame beasts in the field or walk through a city riot unharmed, leaving patches of quiet in their wake.

They all died out after the Scourge, of course. Ardyn supposed there could be no sun-touched without the sun, and even with his own efforts to stem the flow of the plague, he never saw their like again.

But if they did exist…

Ardyn watched in mild disappointment as the young king of Lucis did not self-combust, but rather collapsed, listening in dejected silence to his advisors as they crowded in a distant huddle around him. They were trying to be clever, bless them. The light-haired brunette had promise, and seemed to be insinuating something that had Prompto bristling in outrage.

That’s right, Ardyn thought. Use the chancellor of Niflheim to your advantage. Which didn’t, in fact, seem to be an option in Prompto’s mind. The daemons in the back of Ardyn’s awareness surged forward again, triumphant: Of course the descendants of the usurper would think to manipulate him in such a way, of course they would use every opportunity given them to crawl their way to the top. Noctis Lucis Caelum, a pretender to the throne, degenerate son of a weakened line. He deserved the fate the Astrals placed before him, deserved—

“Hey.”

Ardyn Izunia sank into the fog, and Ardyn Lucis Caelum stepped out of it. He looked down at Prompto, who was rocking forward on his heels before him, hands shoved in his pockets.

“You doing okay?” Prompto asked. He placed a hand on Ardyn’s shoulder, and his mind felt that much clearer, more certain. He glanced at Noctis, and only saw a slim, hollow-eyed young man with lines of worry creasing his brow that belonged to a man twice his age. He could barely bring himself to hate the boy.

Strange.

“I was thinking,” Prompto said. “We might be too late for dinner tonight, but if you want, we can meet up at the chocobo post in a few days? There’s this black chocobo egg, right, and it’s supposed to hatch any day now. I wanna be there when it does.”

“I wouldn’t miss it,” Ardyn said. He had a fondness for that particular breed of chocobo: They were the only sort that would allow him to ride them after he started healing the Scourge. None of them would go near him now, but if he kept his distance, he should be fine.

“Awesome,” said Prompto, and when he kissed him, it was as though a fire burned through his skin, pushing the daemons down until there was nothing left but Ardyn, pleased and young and terribly confused. “It’s a date.”

-

The daemon deer of Galdin Quay pranced menacingly along the soft grass of the sloping hill beyond the hotel. The diminished herd of Quay deer slept in a fearful pile under the eaves of a few straggly trees, large eyes closed against the dark. The daemon deer snuffled twice, wiggled its chubby backside, and let its jaw click open. The snakes that coiled in its belly scented the air as they came, tongues darting out into the humid air off the sea, slowly undulating towards the herd.

“Don’t you dare!”

The herd of deer perked up at the sound of a human voice, and went thundering off along the slope. The daemon turned its head towards The Man It Liked, who was standing over it with disappointment radiating off his scowling face.

The daemon cowered.

“You know what you did!” said The Man It Liked. The snakes slithered back into its belly, and it hung its head. “Bad! Bad daemon. You aren’t gonna do that again, are you? Are you?”

The daemon inched forward, trying to nuzzle The Man’s shins. It was sorry. It had never been sorry before, not since it was a thing of flesh and bone, but it was sorrier now than any creature could ever be. It hissed and spat in misery, and The Man It Liked reached down to pet it on the back of its neck.

“Good boy,” The Man said. “If you wanna eat something, eat the catfish, okay? Noct says they’re an invasive species anyways.”

The daemon purred at The Man’s touch, and then went bounding towards the ocean. It wasn’t sure what a catfish was. A fish that looked like a cat? A fish with whiskers? It didn’t matter. The daemon would do its best to eat every fish it could find until it got the right one, and then it would bring it back to The Man It Liked, and maybe, just maybe, get scratched behind the ears.

From: (Anonymous)

This is still so beautiful and perfect. I loved Ardyn's POV and how when the scourge isn't hissing HATE EVERYBODY BUT ESPECIALLY THE LUCIS CAELUMS he can look at Noctis and realise he's just a worn-down kid.

and i'm feeling for noct here, first his best friend makes out with the chancellor of niflheim, then his best friend's pet daemon deer starts decimating the local fishing

“Awesome,” said Prompto, and when he kissed him, it was as though a fire burned through his skin, pushing the daemons down until there was nothing left but Ardyn, pleased and young and terribly confused. “It’s a date.”

Please date forever