You know, you’d think I’d learn my lesson and just…write the prompts beforehand instead of writing them the day of.
Author: chocobostrinket
Unbowed
Prompto goes toe to toe with Gladio and anxiety
Prompto Week Day 6 (10/24): Favorite Trait
Prompto had this quiet inner strength that I rarely see
portrayed. Or maybe I’m looking in the wrong places. Anyways, that’s
my favorite trait of his. He’s very scattered and flighty. He reacts the most out of the guys, and is definitely the most anxious. But in certain parts of the game, he goes still, and I don’t know if it’s just me, but he gets this expressionless look on his face that just speaks volumes about the situation. This is pretty much a written form of Off the Rails,
and the Hand of the King, two chapters that I felt showed off this side of him the best.
The train rattled down the tracks at an even pace, and the
sound was the only thing that was filling the silence between the four men who
had once been closer than brothers. Prompto had tried to start up small
conversations with all of them, but the only one who even bother talking back
to him was Ignis. Dear Ignis, who’d lost his sight. Like Prompto, no one
bothered speaking to him. No, the other two filled their days with speaking
about him instead, often in arguments.
So when Gladio stood up from his seat after a short burst of
conversation between himself and Ignis, Prompto turned his head slowly,
following Gladio’s movement. He watched with weary eyes, not that Gladio saw or
Noctis cared. By the look on the shield’s face, he knew to brace himself for another
argument. With the smallest sigh, he turned his head back toward his lap,
dropping his gaze to his hands. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Ignis
tightening his grip on the cane across his legs.
He was just as sick of the fighting too.
Prompto had been content just to let them yell at each
other, to ignore them. There wasn’t much else to do, considering Gladio never
was one to let himself feel anything but anger. However, when Gladio’s hand
shot out and grabbed Noctis’s collar, his head snapped back toward them, eyes
now watching intently.
“Maybe when you’re not too busy moping, you can look around
and give a shit about someone worse off than you.” Gladio’s words were all
barbed-wire and razors hidden inside a voice pitched low. Meant to hurt Noctis
more than anything.
That was bad enough as it was. Prompto’s head felt slowly
drawn back toward Ignis, and from the brief glance he’d allowed himself, he
could see that Gladio, whether he’d meant to or not, had hurt him as well. The
two then continued arguing, oblivious to the discomfort they were causing their
friends.
The feeling was back.
The rolling twist in his gut. The feeling of his voice being
stolen away. The one that cause his mouth to dry, his eyes to lower. The need
to check, double check, and triple check his actions. If he made one small
misstep, what would happen? Wouldn’t they throw him away? Could he even afford
to choose a side? Especially since they were so fractured already…
“Enough Gladio!”
Ignis’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts, registering
the slight ache hidden under Ignis’s own anger. And suddenly, the need to
remain quiet didn’t feel like a need for the first time in his life. He looked
at the pair and saw the anguish on Noctis’s face as Gladio called him a coward.
In Gladio’s eyes there were traces, of all things, panic. It was hard to keep
his own panic in check with what he was about to do, but he managed. Even in
the face of Gladio’s biting words. He didn’t want the situation to worsen. So,
when Noctis tried to shove Gladio away from him, Prompto stood up and stepped
in.
“Don’t do this-!” He tried to get between the two, placing a
hand on Gladio’s chest and Noctis’s shoulder.
But the second he made contact, Gladio put his hand on his
face with such force, there was an audible smack right before he shoved and sent Prompto
stumbling into one of the seats. Normally, such an action would have left him
feeling like a scolded dog. And he quite nearly did. His face slightly hurt
where Gladio’s hand had been, and he had to brace himself against the back of
the seat he was shoved into.
Six he forgot how strong Gladio was, and the surprise
registered on his face. Before Altissia, they’d have laughed it off as Gladio
apologized for his actions. Because sometimes he forgot too. And they’d have
all gone back to joking around and goofing off. But the shield didn’t even
bother looking at him, only caring, it seemed, to hurt Noctis.
At the very least, Noctis had glanced at him to make sure he
was okay before going back to the argument.
Prompto watched the two for a bit longer, a frown on his
face as he puzzled over what to do. No longer could he just sit by and watch
his friends viciously rip each other to shreds. They all knew each other too
well not to know just what to say to cause the most damage. And they were all
too hurt right now to be hurting each other.
“Then get a grip! Pull your head out of your ass already!”
Gladio said with the same dark expression he’d been wearing the whole fight.
He watched as Noctis’s jaw clenched and he turned on heel,
leaving them for who knows where.
“Noct!” He turned as well, and meant to follow, but found
himself frozen to the spot when Gladio’s booming voice rang out behind him.
“Leave him.”
Prompto swallowed slowly and watched as Noctis walked off. The
tone of voice Gladio used had only ever been used in combat. And while Prompto
was worried for both of his friends, his mind was screaming that Gladio just
might be the biggest threat to them at the moment. He knew he was hurting too,
but there was no excuse for his behavior.
His eyes narrowed into a sharp stare, and he turned around
slowly. Blue eyes found the shield’s back, and he watched him until he was
through the door. Only then did he let himself relax. He moved to take his seat
back beside Ignis, who had remained silent through-out the rest of the dispute,
and dropped heavily into the seat. That small burst of bravery had drained him
mentally. Physically, he was already exhausted. And emotionally? He dared not
to think of his own emotions right now. He hadn’t even done much good for all
the trouble he went through. They still were fighting, they hadn’t even paid
him any mind really. The whole event, on his part, had been worthless.
But then he felt Ignis’s hand come to rest on his shoulder
and gently squeeze, as if reassuring him he’d done sometimes of value, then let
go to rest back around his cane. Prompto had turned to look at him when he’d
first felt his hand on him, and while Ignis’s expression didn’t change, the
action spoke volumes. They’d never been the closest of the four. So it meant a
lot to Prompto that Ignis had bothered reaching out.
He had to discreetly wipe away a tear or two, mentally
cursing onions to Ifrit’s side and back even though no onions were present, and
then pulled out his phone to distract his thoughts with King’s knight.
~
Fire lit up the night, spreading across the waters of the
Malboro and its descendants, ending that particular line of the noxious
creatures. Ignis stood among the flames, looking toward the heart of it unflinchingly,
unlike the rest of them. The light from the flames blinded them while he was
left unbothered due to his own blindness.
“Is it dead?” Gladio asked gruffly, using his sword to prop
himself up.
Prompto, smiling for the first time in what felt like weeks,
let out a chipper, “It is!”
He practically scampered over to Ignis’s side, making sure
to disturb the water enough so Ignis could hear him coming, and added, “And
it’s all thanks to Iggy!”
Gladio, even though he was still a distance away, let out a
relieved sigh that could be hear by all of them. And for the first time in
days, the kindness he was known for had found its way back into his voice.
“Iggy. You saved us.”
Prompto’s own voice softened as he put a hand on Ignis’s
back briefly, almost too gentle to be felt through his jacket, before pulling
his hand away. “Seriously. We’d be plant food if it weren’t for you.”
“Happy to help.” The ghost of a small smile crossed Ignis’s
face, even if his voice was flat and emotionless.
There was peace among them, the familiar comradery that
they’d built together over the past few months. For a second, Prompto thought
things were starting to look up.
But then Gladio opened his mouth.
“What, no royal commendation from his majesty?” His voice
was sarcastic, lacking the bite it’d had on the train. But it still made
Prompto frown at Gladio, and his hands clench at his side.
“None for you at least.” Noctis said in an almost lilting
tone. His voice reminded Prompto of a pretty bottle filled with poison.
Thankfully, Gladio decided not to drink the metaphorical
poison and let it go as Noctis walked off. Prompto let out a small sigh of
relief and watched as Gladio followed Noctis, and then began to walk with Ignis
as well. But then a small gasp caught his attention, and as soon as Prompto
heard it, he whirled around and had his arms on Ignis in a second flat. It was
almost habit now, catching him.
He helped Ignis back up, pulling him free of the water and
choosing to ignore the curses Ignis muttered to himself. When he had his
footing, Prompto let go. He knew Ignis didn’t like to be coddled. To which
Ignis pushed up his glasses and said, “Thanks.”
“No prob.” He shrugged even though Ignis couldn’t see it,
and stayed at Ignis’s side while they caught up.
Noctis opened the way of the tomb by way of burning what was
left of the Malboro eggs, and they all exchanged little quips to fill the
silence. An improvement over the quiet tension they’d all been feeling for a
long time. Soon enough, Noctis got what they’d come for and they were beginning
to move out, planning to make a bee line for the train now that they knew the
way.
But then Ignis surprised them all.
“A moment.”
They all paused where they were and turned to face him.
Prompto looked him up and down, trying to see if he was hurt in the fight and
just hadn’t said anything. But nothing seemed amiss, aside from how waterlogged
they all were.
“Is everything okay?” Gladio asked.
Ignis put both hands on the top of his cane, and held
himself tightly, as if bracing himself. “It bloody isn’t. And I won’t suffer
this pointless bickering in silence any longer.”
Prompto let out a small huff of surprise. Ignis, level
headed Ignis, had finally snapped. Even though he sounded tired, the echo of
anger lingered in the air. Prompto dared a glance at Gladio and Noctis before
returning his eyes to Ignis.
“Let’s be frank. My vision hasn’t improved, and probably
won’t.” He spoke with finality that cut them all deeply. Probably himself the
worst. Noctis stood at his side and looked at his advisor with an expression
that was profoundly sad.
Prompto had to bite the inside of his cheek to prevent
himself from letting out a strangled noise of distress. Vision. He’d known in
his heart that it wouldn’t return. But the conversation before they’d faced the
titan was always in the back of his mind these days, causing him to hold onto
hope for his friend that his vision would return. So he could see the world
clearly again.
“Yet in spite of this…” Ignis squared his shoulders and
opened his eyes for the first time since the accident. “I would remain with you
all. Til the very end.
Prompto opened his mouth to agree, not bothering to think
twice about it. Because how could they leave Ignis behind? However, Gladio cut
him off before he could voice his thoughts, causing him to turn to look at him.
“Sorry, but I object. War is a matter of life and death.”
Gladio shrugged, as if expecting that would be the end of it.
Prompto thought differently. The anxiety he felt coiled
tightly in his chest, but rather than allow it to run rampant, he turned it
inwards. Compressing it down into something like a stone. Like metal. Something
that would refuse to break. Something that would sink into a sea of calm. He
stepped between Gladio and Ignis, his eyes burning with anger and
determination, his hands still tightly closed at his sides. He’d never felt so
steady before in his life.
“But we’ll be there!” He said it like it was the most
obvious thing in the world, his face passive aside from his eyes. Gladio found it
hard to meet them.
“It’s not about us looking out for him!” He said, voice
raising. He tensed, as if ready for a physical fight. Something that Prompto
now recognized was a show to hide the underlying emotions the shield felt.
That allowed Prompto to be unflinching, eyes never once
leaving Gladio’s.
“Uh-huh. Well then he should be free to choose.” His voice
was plain, echoing Gladio’s own confidence in his words. But his eyes slightly
narrowed, and he lifted his chin a little higher as he stared the shield down.
On the off chance he was wrong, and Gladio was about to get
violent, he was very willing to try his hand against the shield.
Gladio’s face turned to one of frustration, and for the
first time in a long time, of fear. He gestured to Ignis. “There’s more to it
than what he wants.”
Prompto’s unblinking eyes allowed him to catch it. That
moment of fear. Gladio was scared for Ignis.
Before Prompto could respond, Ignis’s own raised voice met
the night air. “I know full well!”
The gunner turned around to look at his friend, a moment of
sorrow crossing his face.
“I won’t ask you to slow down.” Ignis said, his eyebrows
pulling down into a frown, “If I can’t keep up, I will bow out.”
The words hurt Prompto, who couldn’t imagine letting Ignis
leave on his own. He didn’t want any of them to leave. (Even if he thought that
they one day might leave him.)
“What says his majesty?” Gladio said, a dare in his voice
for Noctis to also side with Ignis and Prompto. A small sigh left Prompto, and
he allowed his face to turn from sorrow into complete exhaustion. It would be
up to Noctis in the end, whether Iggy stayed or went. Prompto mentally said a
prayer to Shiva that he’d send none of them away.
Noctis, for the most part, looked so lost. As if the thought
of losing another friend was too much for him. His eyes were dull and lifeless,
even as his lips parted to speak. Prompto looked at his friend, and realized just
how big of a toll everything was on him. He’d known, of course, that Noctis was
hurting. But in that moment, the pain was so clear on his face, it became a
genuine fear that Noctis might actually never smile again.
“Noct, you are king.” Ignis said, speaking in a quiet tone,
as if he could see the expression on Noct’s face. “One cannot lead by standing
still. A king pushes onwards always, accepting the consequences, and never
looking back.”
He turned from Noctis then, and walked toward Gladio. To
Prompto’s eyes, it was as if Ignis could see where all of them were. “Gladio,
Noct will take his rightful place, but only once he’s ready.”
At that, the determined expression returned to Prompto’s
face and he turned to face Gladio again, at Ignis’s side. As if daring him to
speak against all of them. But it was as if the fight had gone out of Gladio,
and the brief flash of defeat on his face didn’t sit right with Prompto. But it
was necessary.
He wasn’t going to lose any of them. Not because of each
other at least.
Gladio turned from them then, and sighed to himself quietly.
“Have it your way. We’re still taking a big risk. We better all be ready.”
He gave a pointed glance at Noctis, as if needing to get one
last shot at the king in, and then began walking back the way they’d come.
Prompto let out his own sigh one more, of relief, before glancing at Ignis and
Noctis. Judging by the look on Noctis’s face, he wanted to speak to Ignis
alone. Which was fine by Prompto. He turned from them then and hurried after
Gladio, planning on trying to keep him from returning to the anger. If he could
keep him off balance, even if he didn’t know how to do that, maybe things had a
chance of getting better.
Honestly though, all it would take was a hardened stare from
him. Gladio was used to the flightly blond from the start of the trip. The undaunted
way he’d held himself was a reality check. If Prompto, one of the most scatter
brained of them all, had to change to drastically to deal with him, perhaps he
needed to change as well.
The way back was uneventful, thankfully. They were all fatigued
in all ways. The elevator ride back up was silent once more, each other them
digesting the change that the events of the mine would create.
Noctis, to everyone’s surprise, was the one to break the
silence.
“You guys mind if we stop in Tenebrae?” He said it
carefully, as if he was walking on a sheet of glass hundreds of feet in the
air.
He hadn’t started a conversation ever since he’d woken up in
Altissia. It was a startling change, but a welcome one. Perhaps he was now
healing from the deaths he’d experienced, instead of only hurting.
“Might as well hop off!” Prompto said, the cheer also
returning to his voice. But the face he was making out of sight of Noctis was
at odds with his voice.
He was staring at Gladio, who was staring right back, with
the same face from the mine. As if daring Gladio to say no.
He was still very willing to try to smack some sense into
him if it came to it.
After a pause, Gladio nodded his head, breaking the stare. “If
it helps him move on.”
Prompto then, for the first time in months, smiled genuinely
at Gladiolus.
@promptoweek DAY 4: Alternate Universe ★
Fears/InsecuritiesMy favorite kind of AU: Happy (alternative) Endings.
While thinking about the kids I became a bit too attached, I think I’ll draw them more often. Again, super cute drabble by @makikoigami (Gen, Promptis if you want it to be there)
Fixed Photos
Prompto and his parents communicate through pictures
Prompto Week Day 5 (10/23): Favorite Outfit
Kind of a plotless drabble of Prompto when he first got the uniform. I think I read somewhere that he wanted to show his parents but they weren’t home. So I kind of took from that and went from there.
Prompto stood in front of the mirror in his parent’s house,
staring at his reflection. The uniform suited him well. As it should since it
had been tailored to him and him alone. He adjusted some of the seems to lay
where they should, and straightened a wrinkle or two on the jacket. It was
strange seeing himself in one of the uniforms he’d often seen around the
citadel. Even stranger to think that it was because he was officially a part of
Noctis’s guard.
His arms shifted at his side, like he couldn’t sit still. It
was reminiscent of a bird adjusting its wings. The sleeves were something he
wasn’t used to, and made the jacket feel heavier than he’d have liked. But he
found he didn’t mind. He’d grow into it, he thought to himself.
With a smile, he lifted his camera up to the mirror and took
a picture.
A polaroid was soon churned out of the camera and he grabbed
it before it could fall to the floor. He set that first one aside, and then
took the jacket off to take a picture of himself in just the shirt and vest. Specially
made without sleeves. He preferred the vest to the jacket, liking the silver
that spread across the fabric.
He set the camera and second picture down by the first and
went to change out of the uniform. Back into his mundane red shirt and pants.
He was supposed to be at Noctis’s place already, helping him pack his things
for the move back into the citadel. And soon, when they got back, Prompto would
be moving too.
Things were changing. And as he folded the uniform and put
it carefully back into the box it was stored in, he felt like it represented
his future. Like his most important moments would be while he was wearing it.
By his friend’s sides and at Noctis’s back.
But then he realized how cheesy he was being in his mind and
laughed.
He stuffed the box into his luggage, a single small
suitcase, and then shut it. With that he went to put it by the door for the
morning, so he could just grab it and go. Only then did he go back to the
pictures, which had developed by this point, and turned them over. He’d have preferred to take photos on his nicer camera, but there was no time to get them printed. So the polaroids would have to do. Grabbing a
nearby pen, he wrote a message on the backs to his parents.
He’d wanted to show them, but finding them not at home wasn’t
a surprise. He was used to it and had long since grown out of resenting them
for not being around more often. Which is where pictures came into play. If
they couldn’t be round to see him first hand, he could show them through the
lens of a camera at least.
Once he finished writing his message, he pinned it to the
cork board his father had hung up for him during one of his rare moments at
home. ‘So we won’t miss any of your photos.’ Sometimes, if Prompto was lucky,
they’d leave him a photo of their day too. With one final smile at the pictures
of himself in the kingsglaive uniform, he grabbed his keys from the bowl he
usually kept them in, and left home to help his friend prepare for tomorrow.
Then, when he left in the morning dressed in his fatigues, he noticed the pictures
were gone and a small note had replaced them that stated, ‘We’re so proud of
you!’ in his mother’s handwriting. As way of thanks, he grabbed the polaroid camera and took a selfie, smiling brightly in the morning sunlight, and pinned it on the board to develop. He took the note with him, and then stepped though the door.
if you would be so kind as to reblog this if you feel insecure about your writing skills.
A Dark Game
Prince Prompto and Assassin Prince Noctis
Prompto Week Day 4 (10/22): Alternate Universe
Mildly went overboard on today’s prompt. Kind of has a plot, but is also kind of wordy. Just to let you know. Didn’t have time to edit this one as much as I wanted, but I didn’t want to fall behind on days. I cut it really close though. Warning the POV kind of alternates.
Summary: Prompto is the Prince of Niflheim. Once, he was a beacon of
hope to the people of Niflheim for a brighter future. Unfortunately, things
change. Everything in his daily life is now dictated by the emperor and has
been for the past five years. He has no freedom, and as much as he wants to be
the person who inspired hope in the people again, he doesn’t dare to. Enter
Noctis. Prince of Assassins and heir to the now non-existent Insomnian throne. Sent on an
assassination mission to take out the Prince of Niflheim by a twist of fate,
he’s not expecting to find someone who ALSO wants the emperor dead.
~~~~
When Noctis was selected for this, he had been proud.
Being fresh out of his training and chosen for such a
high-grade mission was an honor. The king himself had picked him in a blind
selection, not aware he’d chosen his own son. So, yes, the fact that his skills
were substantial enough to be recognized by his father was the best thing that
had happened to him in a while.
Though, killing the Niflheim prince didn’t sit right with him.
It was supposed to be a blow to their morale. He was the
only heir to the throne, which since the Emperor was a bit older than his own
dad, there wasn’t likely to have another. So, if he died, and when the Emperor
died, the political environment might be destabilized. He was also the easiest
to target, with little to no guards. Not to mention, like Noctis, he was
beloved by his people. Supposedly.
From where Noct was sitting, that didn’t look like it was
true.
The Nif prince sat in a chair by the window with a blank
expression. Sometimes, he was reading. Other times, like now, he had nothing to
do but stare outside. It wasn’t much of a view, but Noctis figured he’d managed
to find something to watch. And he
wouldn’t move for hours. Not until someone came and told him to get up and get
ready for bed, or training, or any other thing they needed him for. If it
wasn’t time for bed, then he was returned to his chair. Like a doll almost.
It gave him the chills honestly.
Everything about this prince screamed being controlled.
Noctis almost felt like he was doing him a favor. And soon, it would be his
time to strike. He dropped down from the tree he was hiding in, and threw a
knife up toward the Prince’s window as he fell. Soon enough, he warped after
it, hanging off the handle before swinging up and grabbing the window seal. He
closed his eyes to wait for his signal. The Prince had just gone to bed, so it
would be soon.
~
There was a knock on the door and one of his attendants
stepped into his room. “It’s time for bed your highness.”
The Prince rose from his chair, his face neutral. “Alright.”
He followed his attendant over to his closet and allowed him
to undress and redress him into his night clothes. The attendant then helped
him into bed and brought the covers up to his chin. Every movement was
mechanical and well-practiced. It only took three minutes.
“That will be all your highness.” The attendants voice was
about as dull as Prompto felt.
“Of course,” He closed his eyes. “Good night.”
With that small exchange, the man left without replying and
Prompto was left alone in his bed. As soon as the door was closed his eyes
opened and he stared up at the ceiling. Like most nights, he began to regulate
his breathing as much as he could. He’d found that if he held still and
breathed steadily, he could fall asleep in about 15 minutes. He had it down to
a science almost, considering sleep was the only place he wasn’t so tightly
controlled.
It wasn’t always like this.
Prompto remembered before, when he was younger. He had been
the one to dictate his schedule mostly. He still had to be tutored and learn
the politics of the empire. Combat training as well. But he’d had freedom. He
could stroll among the garden, or play in the unused wings of their home. If he
truly wished to, he could stay up all night reading.
But then he got older, and he had been allowed to go out
among the people to talk to them. To bring their complaints to the emperor as
their prince. He hadn’t realized that his father hadn’t really wanted to hear
their complaints, but had only sent him out to placate them. So, when he had
gotten a chance to speak with his father at one of their rare dinners and brought
it up, it hadn’t ended well.
No, his father had essentially ordered him to shut his
mouth, in which Prompto had retaliated by shouting at him and standing up.
Standing before the emperor had stood, what had he been thinking? A display of
disobedience and major disrespect. One his father had not tolerated.
He had worked quickly. Dizzyingly so. One moment Prompto had
been standing before his father. The next he had been dragged back to his
quarters, and locked in for the night, with a promise of him not being allowed
to leave his room for a week. But that hadn’t stopped Prompto.
Originally, he had only paced around the room, broke things,
and shouted out the windows. Then, he started to escape his rooms and went back
among the people, helping as much as he could where he could before the MTs
found him and dragged him back. It was on these outings that he’d learned all
his father had hid from him. The war on Insomnia being unjustified. Whole
villages disappearing. The experimentation on humans. Infants even.
Then, one night, there was a small uprising. It hadn’t been
huge, only a few brave souls really. Rallying behind him of all things. They’d
claimed he’d be a better ruler than his father, and wanted his father removed
so he could take his throne early. Prompto had been dragged out to the throne
room when they had been caught and watched them die, one by one. But not before
they had been tortured for their information. Like why they had done it. If
there were more of them. And who their families were.
His father made him watch and the memory haunted him to this
day.
But that wasn’t the worst part. His father brought the
families in next. Twisted the children into Daemons to serve in his experiments.
Killed the remaining adults in vicious ways.
“Let them serve as a lesson.” He had said. “You are just as
expendable as them. Never forget that.”
Then he had been punished for inspiring them. He still
couldn’t remember that part. And the thought of remembering made him sick with
fear.
After all that, his father had staged a public appearance.
They had never fought they told the media. Prompto would rule in his own time.
He had to state that he never supported the rebel’s efforts, and that they had
been misguided. They’d be rehabilitated and then returned to the public. He had
to lie to his people. Put on a good show. Make them believe that the royal
family was united and that they’d heard the people’s complaints and were
working on fixing them. There was no need to worry, and that Prompto was now
going to be focusing on learning how to rule effectively by observing his
father.
He would no longer be among them. And that was supposed to
satisfy their people.
It had worked was the sad part.
That was when he’d been locked away. Strict rules put in
place. He wasn’t allowed to so much as move without someone telling him to. He
slept when he was told to. Only spoke when allowed, and even then, it was only
small phrases. Sometimes there were public appearances, with written speeches
and cues for his emotions. He no longer belonged to himself. And if he stepped
out of line he’d be killed. His father had let him know that in no uncertain
terms.
It was hell to be so controlled, but soon enough five years
had passed. Five years of being an emotionless puppet. Of unwavering obedience.
Of being locked in his own mind.
Of the punishments that occurred when he couldn’t play the
part.
But it was paying off finally. Slowly, his father had been
letting him resume his combat lessons. If he was especially good, and did well
in training, he was allowed on 5 minute walks in the garden. (Supervised of
course, but just being outside was nice.) And soon, if he was excelling at an
acceptable rate, his father hinted at eating dinner together again. With these
small allowances, he was waking up after a five-year stupor. He began to pay
attention to his surroundings again. After not being present in his own body
for so long, it was somewhat maddening. He wanted his freedom back.
But…he knew that getting it back might be harder than he’d
expected. Lately, he’d heard the servants whispering. The emperor was getting
more ruthless. And he was worried that this change was a result of that. Which
meant his father had something planned. So, he needed to play along a little
longer. A little longer and he’d…
Well, he hadn’t quite decided if he was going to try and
escape (to Altissia maybe?) or to attempt to finish what those rebels started.
But that was a worry for another day. He could feel his eyes begin to drift
close and nearly dropped off to sleep.
Thump.
His eyes slowly opened again, this time he was listening
intently. That was out of place. His cycle of breathing was broken and he was
immediately awake again. He listened for a little longer and upon hearing
nothing, mentally settled.
But then the alarms went off in the distance. It sounded
like it was somewhere outside his window…Which honestly could be any of the
western sector of the fortress. But it was enough to warrant turning his head.
Once he did he quickly closed his eyes and started to regulate his breathing as
much as he could.
He had caught a glimpse of someone coming in the window.
Which was pretty horrifying in any situation. But his mind was racing. The
alarms going off were clearly a distraction. His mind immediately jumped to his
father staging an attempt. Which meant he needed to make his move now. Leave.
Something! But first the matter of the intruder. He had hoped he was just
passing through, but nope. He was coming right over to the bed. Prompto counted
his footsteps as he moved, and listened to how close he was.
There was an odd crystalline sound and a flash of blue above
him. He heard the person’s clothes shift, and opened his eyes.
His eyes met
surprised ones and he launched out of bed at him, tackling the man in a tangle
of blankets, wrapping his arms around his chest at they hit the floor. He was
fully aware that the man could still stab his back, but he was hoping that he’d
be too off guard to realize it for the moment. But it was better than he hoped,
as he heard the blade fall on the floor somewhere to the left of them.
This was probably not going according to plan for him.
Prompto grunted as the man started grappling with him. He
was a little surprised that he didn’t try to hurt him. He didn’t even try
punching him. He was just currently trying to pry him off. But Prompto had the
upper hand, by way of being on top of him. But then as he was getting up to try
and run for the window he felt the man hit his inner arm, which caused him to
collapse back on top of him. The man then rolled them over, probably to pin
him.
But like HELL was Prompto going to just let him.
They eventually ended up wrestling on the floor like two
school kids. It would have been fun if it wasn’t for that fact that this man
had just literally tried to kill him. Speaking of which, if this was an
assassination attempt, this man was doing a poor job of it.
“Will- you- just- STOP.” The man said in Lucian accent.
Prompto froze for a moment, which obviously surprised the
man as well considering they both froze. He was sitting on the man’s legs, one
of his attacker’s wrists in his hand while the other was pushing on his face.
There was a buzzing in Prompto’s ears. He had spoken like a Lucian. A LUCIAN.
Not a Gralean. This wasn’t an attempt by his father. Which was both a relief
and a disappointment. He couldn’t figure out why it was a disappointment, so he
wasn’t going to think about it.
“Holy shit you’re from Insomnia.” He said breathlessly. Both
their eyes were wide as they stared at each other.
But then Prompto heard heavy footsteps coming down the hall
and immediately became panicked.
“Sorry.” He hissed, and used his free hand the punch the man
as hard as he could.
Now. It was by no means hard-enough to knock him out, but it
damn well stunned him. And while he was stunned Prompto used the grip he had on
the man’s wrist to pull him up into a sitting position. After which he
hurriedly dove behind him and hooked his arms under his shoulders and
practically dragged him across the room. The man then realized that the blonde
had him in a hold and was clearly taking him somewhere so he started kicking
his legs.
“Let go! What do you think you’re doing?” He began to call
out.
“If you don’t shut up we’ll both be killed.” Prompto
muttered into his ear.
That shocked the man into silence, which Prompto used to his
advantage by heaving him into the closet and shutting the door. He looked on
the floor for the blade the man had, and thanked his lucky stars that it wasn’t
very far. He darted over and back before the man had gotten back to his feet
inside the closet and stabbed the knife into the bottom of the door seal, effectively
preventing the man from opening the door.
“Just shut up and be quiet please.” Prompto begged through
the door. “They’re coming.”
With that, Prompto scooped the blankets off the floor and
jumped back into bed. Thankfully, he managed to arrange himself as he normally
lay before the door to his room opened, and he closed his eyes, pretending to
sleep.
“Your highness, wake up.”
It was easy to slip back into the calm and controlled
personal he used to deal with this man. His eyes fluttered open in a perfect
pantomime of his usual wake up routine.
“There was an attack in the western hall, where the
researchers are stationed. Was there anything of note here?”
Prompto shook his head and dared a glance at the man. “No. Everything
is fine.”
The man glanced around the room while Prompto was thanking
the six that it was so dark by the closet. When he saw nothing out of place, he
nodded his head in approval.
“Alright Highness. Please return to sleep.”
“Of course. Good night.” He said, and the attendant left.
He waited until his foot-steps faded from the hall and then
leapt back out of bed and crossed the room to his closet. Now that he was at
this point, he wasn’t quite sure what to do. So, he decided to go with what
he’d been good at before being isolated.
Talking.
With a timid knock on the closet door he asked, “If I let
you out of there would you try to kill me again?”
There was a pause, and he could hear the man shifting around
in his closet, most likely to face to door.
“Well…I mean, that’s kind of the only reason I’m here?”
Prompto bit his lip thinking, “O-oh…that’s…”
“Yeah.” The man sounded like he settled against the doors.
“Sorry.”
He in turn also settled against the closet. “Guess…I can’t
let you out yet then.”
“I guess.” They sat in silence for a moment before the man
spoke again. “Earlier you said…they’d kill us both if they found me. Was that
true?”
He nodded his head though the man couldn’t see it. “Yeah.
They’d do it in a heartbeat.”
“That’s…wrong. On so many levels. They’d kill you because an
assassin came through your window?” The man sounded shocked. Good. Prompto
could work with shocked.
“Again, yes.”
“But why? Not that I’m eager to die or anything, but why
wouldn’t they just save you?”
Prompto leaned his head back against the wood of the door. “What
do you know of me?”
“Uh…how is that…?” The mans sounded a bit confused, so there
must not be much out there about him.
Pity.
“Just answer the question.” A deep sigh left him.
The man was silent for a few moments, and Prompto wondered
if he was going to ignore him. But then he spoke. “Well…From our intel, you’re
beloved by your people.”
The surprised him enough to say, “Still?”
“Should you not be?” The man’s voice turned slightly
confrontational, as if daring him to tell him why he shouldn’t be loved.
They didn’t have time for all that.
“Depends on who you’re asking.” He left it at that and said
nothing more.
The man then changed the topic slightly. “…If you don’t mind
me asking…Why would they kill their prince?”
“I think…dad’s been looking for an excuse to…get rid of me
lately.” He inhaled slowly and then exhaled at the same rate. “Anything out of
the ordinary would be enough. Including an assassin coming in the window. Easy
to make it look like you did your job before they could save me.”
Now that he was talking with someone, it was easier to put
together. Obvious almost. The temptation of freedom by allowing him to walk in
the gardens. Learning how to fight again. Tastes of the life he used to have.
Either he was trying to provoke Prompto into running away, effectively removing
him as his heir, or he wanted Prompto to snap and attack him. Which would also
remove him as heir because he’d be dead. He could also be trying to frame him
later. Honestly, there were many things his father could be planning.
“Get rid of you?”
“Kill. You know. One shot to the head. Or a dagger to the
heart… I originally thought you were one of his honestly.” Prompto said with just a hint of bitterness.
“If it’s so bad, why
didn’t you run?” The man spoke softly, as if he feared Prompto stopping. But
that only served to exasperate him.
“And leave my people without a ruler when my dad passes?”
Prompto glanced at the doors of the closet in irritation. “Never.”
The man remained silent, so Prompto, after curling his knees
to his chest and wrapping his arms around himself, continued.
“…My father is not a kind person. I’ve seen what he does to
those beneath him.” A shiver ran down his spine as he added on in a whisper,
“I’ve experienced it.”
“I can’t allow him to continue,” he said a bit firmer, “but
the only hope I have of stopping him is to outlive him.”
“You want to stop him?” The surprise in his voice only drew
Prompto into speaking more.
“I’d give anything to.” He said softly.
“Let me explain,” He then began, “When…When I was younger, I
used to go outside the fortress. Among the people we’re supposed to serve. And
the people told me of his deeds. Of people disappearing into the night. The
unjust war against your people.” He took a steadying breath. “Of experiments
that shouldn’t see the light of day. Upon our own people. Children even.”
“That…Lead to a small uprising of people. In my name. They
wanted me to rule. But it failed. And I’ve been locked away ever since.”
Prompto buried his head in his knees.
“We’ve…Never heard of this. The people were willing to fight
behind you?” The man sounded like he was getting to his feet, so Prompto did
the same, leaning against the doors to reinforce them in case he was trying to
get out.
“They were. It’s been five years since then. I… I doubt
they’d do it now. I’ve been nothing more than my father’s puppet for the same
length of time.” A bit of panic entered his voice as he felt the man push
against the doors. “Please don’t break the doors, someone might come!”
“I’m not.” The man said, “Just let me out, I swear on the
six I’m not going to attack you.”
He continued leaning against the door, “Sorry to say buddy,
but swears don’t mean much around here in case you haven’t noticed.”
But the man kept pressing outward, so with a groan, Prompto
stepped out of the way and jerked out the dagger. Once it was gone, the doors
burst open and the man tumbled to the floor. While he was getting up Prompto
leveled the dagger at him, even though his hands shook.
“Please, I don’t want to fight.”
“Then don’t.” The man stood up and removed the mask he was
wearing, revealing someone around the same age as him. “I’m not going to try
anything. If I was, you’d already be dead.”
At that, Prompto snorted. “No offense, but you kind of botched your first go at me. What’s to stop you from messing up the second?”
The man glowered at him. “Shut it.”
When the man stayed true to his
word and made no move to attack, Prompto lowered the dagger and then went back
to sit on his bed. Wordlessly, the man went over to the chair Prompto spent
most of his day in, and sat down as well.
“So…how are you going to get out?
I’m assuming you can’t leave unless you…well, you know.” Prompto once again
curled up, hugging himself.
“No, I’m not supposed to. But I mean… What
you’ve told me changes things in my opinion. So killing you isn’t an option.”
The man shrugged, at loss for what he should do. The right thing, though it
didn’t feel like the right thing, would to be kill the prince and get back to Insomnia
without looking back.
But then the prince spoke again. “My
death wouldn’t hurt anything, as I’ve said, you’d be doing my dad a favor… And
he’s planning something. I know it. Things are changing around here after years
of being the same… I want to stop him. It. Whatever he’s doing.”
Prompto suddenly came to a decision, and got up from his chair before he could talk himself out of it.
The man glanced out the window,
the rendezvous signal catching his eye. But then he turned his attention back
to the prince, who to his surprise was approaching him. There was determination
and desperation in his eyes in equal measure. And normally, he’d have panicked
seeing someone walking toward him with a dagger in hand. But he didn’t feel
like he was going to be attacked.
True to his intuition, the prince
pointed the dagger at him, handle first. “You’re an assassin, right? Then teach
me. You can’t get near the emperor. But I can.”
“You want to kill your father?”
The man’s jaw dropped. This was… a lot. Too much. The mission has changed too
much. The prince himself was offering to commit regicide. He needed to report
in. NOW.
“He has to die. And soon.” Then
one of the saddest face the man had ever seen crossed the prince’s face. “I don’t
want to, but it must be done. Look how many people have died because of him.
Yours and mine.”
“I’ll…see what I can do.” The man
took the blade back from him, holding it with the blade pointed downward, and
not at the prince. “I have to go for now. But I will come back. I promise.”
The prince laughed as he stood
and went to the window. “Even if you don’t, thank you. For my life.”
He then gave a small bow to the
man in gratitude. Considering he was a royal, it was one of the highest honors
he could give just as himself. And upon straightening, the man’s face had
softened.
“Prince Prompto?” He said, making
a choice.
“Yes?”
“My name is Noctis.”
Before Prompto could ask anything
about his name, which might have clued him in to just who he was, Noctis
disappeared in a flash of light after throwing the dagger he’d given back to
him.
Prompto Week day 1 –> Favourite scene
I actually have a lot of favourite scenes with Prompto, but I wanted to draw a funny one
(and I do love the whole tent scene in the demo a lot)
why can’t you be this active normally?
¯_(ツ)_/¯
…Kidding. I have so much going on normally. But so far this week has been amazingly kind to me. Hence, here I am. 🙂 I’m hoping that this will be a turning point, and I’ll be on here more frequently. But I’ve also said that in the past. Anyways, I’ll be here writing! 😀
Pester Prompto
Prompto is sometimes annoyed
Prompto Week Day 3 (10/21): Favorite Quote
Honestly, my favorite quote is how he says the, “I would
hate to be that guy” in episode Duscae. Like. You can almost hear the sarcasm barely
concealed. There but lurking under the surface. …plus, his face in that scene
was hilarious. As if he couldn’t believe that Gladio was still giving him crap
about the car.
The alarm was going off, but he didn’t want to get up. No
matter how uncomfortable he was. Pushing a car was no easy task, even with Gladio
on his side. He was sore, and felt too tightly wound. His bones creaked and
protested as he rolled onto his back. The temptation to ask for five more
minutes was like a siren’s call.
He got up anyways.
With a yawn, he rolled to a seated position, bleary eyed but
awake. He rubbed at them before moving to his knees to crawl toward the opening
of the tent, noticing Ignis was already up and staring at him. Gladio shifted awake beside him, eyes opening and locking on the far side of the
tent immediately.
Noctis was still out like a light.
Prompto, upon seeing the unmoving prince, sat back on his legs to wait for his friend to
wake up. Idly he pushed some of his bangs out of his face, the brief worry
crossing his mind about having a bed head. Could one get a bed head if there
was no bed? Another yawn left him at the thought, and he began to wish he’d
asked for those five minutes.
“If only somebody hadn’t wrecked the car,” Gladio said with
a touch of bitterness.
Prompto’s eyes flickered over to Gladio and then away. His
mouth snapped shut and his eye brows pulled together in annoyance as he stared
at the roof of the tent. Clearly someone had woken up on the wrong side of the
tent. Maybe Gladio’d have fared better OUTSIDE with the behemoths.
“Gah. Unbelievable.”
Prompto turned his head away from Gladio, with his mouth
opening in disbelief. It was too damned early for this. He rolled his eyes before turning back to
him, and only just managed to keep the sarcasm from his voice.
“Oh, I would hate to be that guy.” He said. Okay, so he
didn’t manage to keep all the sarcasm out. It was barely concealed. Enough so
that Gladio didn’t hear it. Ignis on the other hand, judging by the quirk of
his eyebrow, noticed it immediately. At the moment though, he didn’t care if Ignis
had picked up on it. He’d heard enough of this YESTERDAY.
But just as quickly as his little burst of anger appeared,
it was gone. Because now he remembered yesterday. The car. He wilted a little
in place and then straightened back up, a sincerer tone of voice now leaving
him.
“Oh come on, don’t be that way. You know I didn’t meant to
do it.” His hands slid down his face and then dropped into his lap. It had been
a mistake. And honest one. But now…
“Of course not.” Both him and Gladio looked at Ignis, who
was staring at the floor. “Sabotage is far beyond you.”
Okay. Owch. He felt his face pull back into a one-sided
grimace at Ignis, who still refused to look at him. Really now, was it pick on
Prompto day? He’d thought that’d been yesterday. He’d just been DRIVING the
damn thing, it’s not like he was being reckless with the car. He’d only been
behind the wheel.
But then it finally registered between the three of them
that Noctis had yet to move. So all three turned to look at him, leaving
antagonizing Prompto for another time.
btw in case yall haven’t noticed I’m getting around to posting some of the fics I’ve been working on. 😀
Imagine Final Fantasy 