Tag: ffxv au

Another AU I was thinking about to music.

What if Ardyn and Somnus were twins? Like, fraternal twins. Ardyn was older by only a few minutes, but didn’t want the throne. Just like my last AU, they have magic without the crystal, but this time around Ardyn kind of gives into the temptation of running off for a year when they turn 20 and exploring the world before he has to come back and step in as his father’s heir. Somnus encourages this, and in the dead of night he takes off. 

Problem is that the gods, like in the last AU, were planning on gifting them the crystal and putting the same plan in action. Ardyn is the only one who can heal people, because that’s what he wanted to study with his magic. Somnus learned how to wield the elements instead. And as Ardyn runs around and see sick people, healing them without the tie to the crystal enabling the scourge to seep into his soul, it just starts floating around and binding to the gods instead of him. 

So they’re a little cross with Ardyn for ruining their plans already. (Except Ifrit, who is not at all on board with sacrificing his favorite humans.)((The god of light was his favorite fellow god, until he decided to become mortal, after all.)) So they issue Somnus an ultimatum, to save their own hides; Find your brother so he can begin his work for the gods and heal the scourge away.

He’s like, bummer, Ardyn just wanted a year of freedom, but okay. So he starts trailing after his brother with Gilgamesh, (slowly mind you) and starts learning that, hey, Ardyn can already heal the scourge, and two, he knows that I’m looking for him the little shit. Because Ardyn doesn’t know about the god’s proclamation, and is just like, whoops, dad must be super cross with me for taking off if he’s sending my brother and Gil after me, and leaves little clues around spots he’s been indicating where he’s going next. Very obvious clues. Like, literally, he draws on a map at one point that says ‘X marks the spot’ with a huge X on it and a silly looking drawing of Gil and Somnus following a trail to the X. 

Occasionally, they spend nights in the same town and never even realize it. Or at least Ardyn doesn’t. The more Somnus learns about his brother, the more he realizes the gods are kind of full of shit. And when he does catch sight of him, he distracts Gil and they go a different direction so they don’t ‘catch’ him. (Gil legit does the same thing though, and knows that Somnus does it too, but he’s amused, so he keeps quiet.)

Eventually Ifrit, seeing that Somnus is now doubting Bahamut, sees his chance. Even though he’s getting sick from the scourge as well, he’s willing to step down as a god to save humanity, and has almost convinced Shiva as well. (He’s been secretly trying to make his fellow gods see Humanity’s worth and how they barely need to watch over them.) Ramuh is already on his side, because he delights in humanity more than he lets on. Leviathan is up in the air constantly changing her mind, but he can’t fault her, its her nature. Titan is behind Bahamut, and set in his way. 

Anyways, he appears to Somnus and reveals the false prophecy that Bahamut intends to enact on humanity. Which causes him and Gil to freak out, and honestly try to find Ardyn to warn him away from going home. At the same time, the Draconian grows impatient, and honestly a little corrupted from the scourge that’s been binding to him for months now, and sets literal demons after Ardyn to drag him back to what will be Insomnia, and chain his magic to the scourge by force if he has to. 

So eventually, it’d turn into a race against time, with Somnus and Gilgamesh trying to catch up to Ardyn, who is seeing more and more of the infected daily and feels obligated to help. And it turns into him actually being on the run from his brother, because it’s not just fun and games anymore, people are dying and will die if he doesn’t help them. Eventually, though an odd parallel, it would turn into Somnus trying to save his brother, like how Noctis tried to save Luna. 

…But I’d want it to have a happier end I think. (Heck, might as well go completely self indulgent and have weird time shenanigans happen because of Somnus’s desperation and magic, and he accidentally yanks Noctis and co into the past to help.)

*edit: Also since one of my head canons is the Noctis looks exactly like Somnus, hilarity ensues once Ardyn sees them together. “Uh….are we triplets or was I adopted?!” 

Just an AU I’m playing around with.

So I’m sitting here listening to music and thought of an idea for an Ardyn focused AU. Don’t get me wrong, I love him as a villain, but also, I want to see him just break the prophecy before it started.

Like, just imagine for a moment the reason the royal family has magic is because they’re related to the gods, but chose to walk a mortal life. But as time went on, the reason they had magic was lost. That long before Ardyn was born, the knowledge was lost to them. The gods remember though.

Then the scourge is introduced, and people in Ardyn’s time start getting sick. The gods could have eradicated it themselves, but at the cost of also becoming mortal and losing their magic. Why should they do that though? It would take time, but eventually, they could restore one of the blood line of Lucis to godhood and let them end the scourge by giving up their godhood and magic for good this time. The brothers would serve for this. One would be king, while the other would fall into the scourge.

So they put a plan into action. They appear to the Lucis Caelums and give them the crystal, something that will slowly start siphoning the magic from each successor of the line and storing it until the one they deem ‘the king of light’ is born. They tell them it is the soul of their world and that it must be guarded by the Lucis Caelums, that their magic is divine and was the best fit to over see it’s safety. Which of course they readily agree. The rite to tie the crystal to their line is planned for the next day, and each member will offer themselves up to the crystal to be judged on who will be it’s first protector.

But like, alright, through time shenanigans, imagine that young Ardyn goes to bed that night and dreams of thousands of years. He sees everything. The rise and fall of himself. His brother being tricked by the draconian into ‘killing’ him. Years of isolation in the prison on Angelgard. Getting free and walking into a world where the people have forgotten him. Learning early on that isolation was better than watching people he grew attached to die while he still lived. Hearing the plans the god had for his family. Growing hopelessly entrapped by the chains of the ‘prophecy’ and trying to change it. Being beaten into submission by the gods through the passage of years. The gods won’t let him die until he accepts that he’d to die on their terms. And when he accepts it, Noctis is born.

This part of the dream is the most vivid. Imagine him seeing Noctis, seeing that he has the face of brother, and his chest hurts. But he plays the roll of the villain and gets lost in the thought that soon, it’ll finally be over. He’ll die finally. He’ll have peace and…

Then he wakes, and he screams. He screams and cries, and REFUSES. With his heart beat in his ears, he runs to the crystal. He knows the truth. That it’s a shackle to the god’s will. His magic has always been HIS, and is not tied to the crystal. Not yet. He hasn’t received the order from the crystal, the gods really, to heal the people and allow the scourge to infect him down to his very soul. He knows what he is, and the crystal is at it’s weakest then. The only magic that has touched it has been from the gods that made it. 

His brother and father run through the door the moment he places his hands on the surface of the crystal. And upon touching it, he’s in the Draconian’s realm, standing before a god. And he screams at him, accuses him, and firmly states that he refuses to let his family be used. The Daconian’s roars and an argument for the ages ensues. But the god doesn’t have a leg to stand on. 

And before the Draconian can make a physical move, to stop him from foiling their plan, he’s back outside the crystal and forcing all his magic into it’s surface, splitting and cracking it apart with his fury. As it cracks, magic rips through the air. Flashes of the future, projected from Ardyn’s mind, echo around him and his family. And when it breaks apart, he collapses. It shatters, and when it does, it rips the magic from the gods, and kills the scourge before it can even really get a foot hold in the world. 

Three Brothers – Imagine

Imagine for a moment that, though Noctis is the child the crystal chose, he is not Regis’s only child. 

Rather there was a young Galadian girl, with eyes that were the envy of Leviathan and hair the color of raven’s wings, the strands even changed in the sunlight light much like the feathers of the creatures. A hunter and fighter, fluid as the sea and no less forgiving. 

He’d come back for her as he’d swore to do, but he was too many years too late. She had burned in the fires of war with a girl that looked too much like her, and much to young. He’d only been able to save her son, one who’s hair didn’t change color with the light, but was a dusty black. 

Regis could recognize it from the mirror. 

(But those eyes were not lost to him no. Her eyes still stared back at him from behind a Kingsglaive mask, and every time he saw them, he’d offer a silent prayer to the woman for forgiveness, for turning her son into his weapon.)

The second great love of his life was a retainer of his. Her wit was sharper than anyone in the room with her, and her composure was second to none. Fair of hair and with eyes as green as the Duscaen forests. He was married, but his wife had been friends with him and only friend before this, and both had their romances on the side. 

But then she had to end it and married a lord, another retainer of his, and stepped down as a retainer. The timing of their first child was off. “Premature by a month” they’d claimed. Part of him always wondered if the hurried wedding had anything to do with the fact that his hair, though fair like hers, was dusty like his.

(And as the child grew, with her sharp wit, sharper even, but with the face he’d had when he was young, he knew. For the first six years of the child’s life, he watched over him, and decided that this one, this one at the very least, would be kept as close to himself as he dared.)

The third came when the friend, seeing age and stress killing her king, offered her heart to him. She was the one who could stay. Who he wouldn’t have to leave behind. He accepted, loving her until her last breath when illness took her away. And the loving their child enough for the both of them, a child with his hair, and the blue of the crystal in his eyes once he was chosen as the crystal’s heir, but her face in his cheekbones, and an innocence that held onto him even into adulthood. 

(How he’d cried when the crystal chose him for another fate. Was he cursed? Couldn’t he keep at least one of them safe? Couldn’t he hold at least one of the close?)

When death came to him, he welcomed it, sending a young girl with his first son, praying that they’d live. 

When death came for the first son, he didn’t regret it. He’d always had a connection with the king’s magic, and knew in the back of his mind that’d he be worthy of the ring, for only long enough to get it and Luna to safety. But he never knew why he was worthy until he was dead, and the kings had to deal with a stubborn ghost of a man, hell bent on cursing them in the after life for destroying the men that could have been his family. 

Death couldn’t take the second son. No. Ignis couldn’t see the spirit of Nyx holding his left wrist, keeping the kings from taking his younger brother’s life, holding the burning at bay. He could at least save one of them, now that he knew. But it still took it’s price, leaving the second in the darkness forever, even when the light would return. He had his guesses why it didn’t take him, from having seen a picture of the former king when he was younger. And it made the vision from the messenger almost too much to bear. 

How he’d wished Noctis had agreed to stop their adventure, to refuse to go to his fate. 

When it was time for Noctis to enter the crystal, Bahamut told him all. The god did not offer him pity, but rather begged for understanding. The gods made a mistake with Ardyn, one that he’d pay for. They were too weak to help him, they hadn’t meant for him to fall. And Noctis, with the compassion of his mother aiding him, forgave Bahamut and the gods. He forgave his wayward uncle.

He was family too. 

Normal for the Spider|Chaos for the fly

So I saw a cute AU by @prompto-cam and it inspired me to sit down and write something after so long. It’s probably a little deviant from their idea, but I tried my best. I just really thought this following scene was too irresistible not to write out, and honestly, I have a HUGE soft spot for Aranea. 

It wasn’t unusual for creatures to come to her in desperation. Here in the darkness of her caverns, spiders had brought her knowledge for as long as she could remember. Whispered to her in words only she, an arachne, could understand. The spiders had taken care of her in this way, telling her what she could do with the information. They’d taught her that knowledge could be used. Selling it, trading it, giving it, all of that had originally served to protect her from harm when she was younger.

But now she was old enough not to need that protection. No. Instead she’d turned it into a weapon, a device for her to leverage what she needed from those who dared come to her. The knowledge was enough of a siren’s call that she never wanted for much, even with her reputation for ending those who dared disrespect her in her own home. 

It became monotonous. They’d come, they’d ask, they’d die or leave.

So the day a centaur came into her cavern, she was braced for the same song and dance. However, there was something in his eye that caused her pause. She’d usually set the person requesting knowledge on a dangerous path, requesting things that she wouldn’t be able to get otherwise. The horn of one of Leviathan’s narwhals, good for protection for the horn never dulls. Things of that caliber.

But him? She liked him. He stood tall and did not cower. His eyes burned for the knowledge, and it was plain for all to see just how much he was willing to pay for what he asked of her. If she didn’t have a reputation to upkeep, she’d have simply given him when he’d wanted, Paid for by the passion in his heart. However, she couldn’t do that. So she requested something easy. Simple. 

“Cakes.”

“Cakes?” 

He’d questioned her price, and she promptly gave a stinging reminder that she could just was easily asked for something like werewolf blood, or pixie wings, or even a vampire’s fang. He let it go after that, which was good. She’d have hated to up the price on him.

It was only half a day later that there was another coming into her cave. She sighed and rolled her neck. She crawled silently along the cavern’s ceiling, watching and observing the small being that was carefully making his way into her home with six boxes in his arms. 

Oh this would be fun.

She dropped down, landing with a soft thump, and said, “And just what are you doing here, Shortcake?” 

“CAKES!” He shouted, panic laced in his voice as he held them out to her. “Gladio said you like cakes and I got you cakes because we need help and cakes are good so if you could eat these cakes and not me and maybe just tell me where we find this magical thing and I can be on my merry way and not die please oh god don’t eat me!”

If she’d know what he was carrying, she would have called him a different name. The panic on his face was clear, but still she could see the resolve in his eyes to help his friends. Even through his fear. Oh, what a gift the day was, meeting two people that she rather liked.

“Hmm…maybe I should add you to the price for what the centaur asked.” She teased. She’d never keep a live creature. She preferred her solitude, but he didn’t know that. 

He was shaking like a leaf in the wind as she brushed by him, purposely trailing one of her legs across his back. She put the cakes off to the side and then went back to him. She sat on the floor, and ran her hands through his hair as she spoke. She told him where they could find someone to heal their friends, the paths to take, and the distance to go. And as she spoke she laced spiders webs through the strands. 

It was late in the day and she’d assumed that as soon as she told him what he wanted to know that he’d run off. The webs would mark him as under her protection, at least until he reached the centaur. No creature of the night would dare touch him.

And as she’d guessed, as soon as she finished speaking, he thanked her and charged off. A laugh left her, and she found herself hoping that maybe they’d returned with another request. 

Chirp

Wing AU

Prompto Week Day 7 (10/25): Free choice

Unfortunately, I won’t be around tomorrow, and didn’t get a chance to write what I wanted for Prompto’s birthday. So, instead you can have a work in progress Wing AU. Unedited so far I’m afraid. But I didn’t want to miss the last day. I hope you enjoy none the less! 

Chirp.

The moment the noise left him, Prompto slapped both hands
over his mouth. His eyes widened and he spun on heel to dash out of the
citadel. The woman that had caused the chirp snapped her head toward him and
her own eyes widened. He dropped his hands from his mouth and started sprinting
for the door. The woman gave a surprised cry and he could hear the beginning of
footsteps somewhere behind him. He was lucky they were so far away.

“Prompto?!” He heard Noctis call, but he couldn’t stop.
Nope.

He wasn’t going to let one small noise out him to his best
friend.

But he was getting ahead of himself.

Prompto Argentum was adopted, he knew that. His parents were
lovely people honestly, but hadn’t been prepared for what to do when their
child suddenly started growing his wings. Wings were normal enough in Insomnia.
The crystal gave them out left and right. No one knew why, it just was. But
wings like his?

Less than common.

Like maybe one in a million winged births
will result in his wing class common. (And it was a BIG maybe.) Like supposed
to report his pattern to the nearest government agency common. Like supposed to
be given over to the citadel for protection common, because of the abilities
they supposedly granted.

That is to say, not common at all.

His parents didn’t want to give him
up though. They had tried for so long to adopt a child, they weren’t going to
let this take him away from them. And so, they hid him. He grew up hiding his
wings. Though people knew he was one of the winged, they’d never seen them. His
parents had made up some excuse of an accident before he was adopted,
preventing him from flying. Made it a point that he never wanted his wings seen
because of this. Made sure to invest in baggy clothes and wing binders to hold
them tightly against his back.

But he was 15 now, and his parents
were hardly around. He was dealing with hiding his wings on his own. He’d done
his research on his wings, and knew that running into another of his wing class
wasn’t ever likely. But he should have been prepared for something like this
just in case. Especially since he had been planning on hanging out with Noctis
in the citadel today.

A person in his wing class, as one of
their abilities, could always recognize another in their wing class. He hadn’t
believed it until that day.

He had almost reached the door when
he heard the air shattering behind him, signaling a warp. Arms wrapped around
his waist stopping his momentum. He gave a small cry of surprise and hastily
grasped at the door handle. But he was lifted off his feet and away from his goal.

“YOU FOUND ANOTHER ONE!” The woman
shouted, joy in her voice.

Of course, she had to be a
kingsglaive. That was just his luck.

He lightly kicked his feet, and
pushed at her arms, but it was half-hearted. He knew there was no way to get
out of the woman’s hold. She was a trained solider, and he… he was just
Prompto.

“Let go!” He said, wiggling as much
as he could. At the very least, since he couldn’t get her to put him down, he
could make it hard for her. And you never knew, she might listen.

But she didn’t listen and was already
walking back over to the people she had with Prompto tucked under her arm like
a football. “Not a chance. Do you know how long I’ve been waiting to meet
another like me?”

He huffed and went dead weight.

“For about as long as I’ve been hiding
I imagine.” He muttered.

They passed by Noctis, who looked
distraught by the state of his own wings, and groaned. Ignis was beside him and
he looked puzzled to say the least. Confused. That wasn’t a good sign either.
If Ignis didn’t know what to do in this situation Prompto had no chance. Gladio
meanwhile was laughing. At least he knew he was way beyond help, but in no
danger. (He made a mental note to get back at Gladio later.)

“Crowe, put the kid down, you’re
scaring the prince.” One of the men said in exasperation, but his expression
was amused.

The woman, Crowe he mentally told
himself, glanced back over her shoulder at Noctis and set him down. However,
she must have known that he was going to try and dart away, because she kept
her arms around him. And then rested her chin on top of his head. He could feel
his feathers slightly puffing up in annoyance, not that they could see them. He
was stuck.

“There, happy?” She asked.

Even though Prompto knew that the
question wasn’t directed at him he said, “No.”

He crossed his arms and glowered at
the men she had been walking with. He knew he should have been panicking. He
didn’t know what to do if they found out about his wings. But being around
another with his wings…it was actually a little calming. Didn’t change the fact
he’d basically been kidnapped right in front of his friends.

He sighed and crossed his arms. “Can
I please go back to my friends?”

“Yeah Crowe, let the kid go. Why’d
you grab him anyways… You know him?” The other man asked while looking Prompto
up and down, a disapproving look on his face.

He was tempted to make a face at him
for that look.  

“Nope, sorry kid, you’re the first
I’ve seen and I’m keeping you for as long as I can.” She said, and her arms
tightened around him. He could practically feel the smile from her.

But that was when his friends finally
decided to try and save him. Try being the operative word. They approached
slowly. Gladio was still completely relaxed, but Ignis was a little ruffled.
Probably from Noctis worrying about why Prompto tried to make a break for it.
She was in his wing class though, and people in his wing class tended not to
let go once they decided someone was theirs. Not to mention, it really did feel
like he’d found a family member. And it annoyed him a little, how right
everything felt. No one was ever supposed to find out, and now that they would,
he couldn’t even feel panicked about it.

“Uh…Glaive Crowe, was it?” Ignis said
in a careful tone of voice. “If you could please explain why you…stole, for
lack of a better word, our friend?”

“Because he’s mine now.” She said,
clearly keeping to her word of not letting him go. “I’ll give him back
eventually.”

“Whoops, you’ve done it now Crowe.” One
of the men muttered.

She was standing close enough to kick
him, so she did. “Shut it Nyx.”

He looked over at his friends and
nearly squeaked. Noctis looked…upset to say the least. Magpies were known to be
possessive. Like, super possessive. So it probably did nothing for his mood to
hear one of the glaive claiming him.

“Prompto isn’t anyone’s.” He said
firmly, but his eyes were speaking a different story. Mine. Mine. Mine. You could practically see the thoughts flashing
across his forehead. He was technically in Noctis’s inner circle. Which Noctis
was probably banking on to get her to release him.

“Nope, I have every right to him
now.” Crowe said, which only agitated the prince more. Prompto remained silent,
knowing that it was true. Wing classes were treated like family. Especially the
rare patterns. Though blood always trumped wings. But, unfortunately, none of
his actual family was here. And the circle ranked below wing class. So he was
stuck.

Noctis was about to open his mouth to
argue, but Crowe cut him off. Her wings slowly opened behind her and wrapped
around both her and Prompto. It was unexpected and everyone froze. Hugging
someone with your wings was considered something only for circles, or pattern
families. Since they all knew she’d never met him before today, and she wasn’t
a part of Noctis’s circle, it was obvious to which he belonged.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone you were
friends with a Kestrel, Prince Noctis?” Crowe said, staring at him.

Instead of answering her, he looked
at Prompto. “You’re a KESTREL?”

His voice rose in pitch with every
word, bordering on panic.

Prompto shrugged helplessly from his
feathery prison. “Uh…surprise?”

Without meaning to, he hid a bit
further behind Crowe’s wings upon seeing Noctis’s panic.

“I thought you were a Chickadee! Like
your parents!”

“I’m adopted!” He fired back.

The two bickered back and forth while
Noctis got closer to the pair, trying to figure out a way to steal back his
friend. Eventually, he settled for trying to pluck out one of Crowe’s feathers.
She wasn’t too happy about that, and with the citadel’s ceiling so high,
threatened to take flight with his friend. Magpies, though fast, wouldn’t be
able to out fly a kestrel. The two dissolved into arguing then, while Libertus
and Nyx both remained quiet and observed them with smiles.

“There hasn’t been a Kestrel in the
inner circle in so long…” Ignis muttered suddenly, and at that everyone fell
silent.

This changed things. A lot. Even
Prompto knew that.

There already was an uproar when
Noctis had been discovered to be a magpie. A pattern that hadn’t been seen
since the rouge queen herself, who had turned Insomnia upside down on its head
during her rule, leading the nation into prosperity. Magpie were thought to herald
a change. And a Kestrel hadn’t been in the inner circle for generations, even though
they had records of every kestrel since the 57th king.

He had been the one who had
discovered that Kestrels have a certain degree of magic in them. He was also
the one, unfortunately, who discovered that if someone killed a Kestrel
patterned person, they gained their abilities. Since that king, the royal family
has taken in all Kestrels to be protected from such a fate, due to the king’s
loss of a dear friend. So far, Regis had only one in his care. And she was
currently holding the boy who would be second in her arms.

“Just what’s going on here?” Suddenly
came a voice from behind them all.

Regis and Clarus were walking down
the hall together towards them, Regis looking rather amused by the groups
antics. Immediately, the glaives, along with Ignis and Gladio, bowed once they
saw who it was. Crowe’s bow was rather awkward considering she still had not
released Prompto.

“Highness.” Ignis said before
straightening. “We have a bit of a…”

Before he could finish Crowe chimed
in, “This boy is a Kestrel!”

Prompto gave a noise of distress upon
hearing her tell the king. Oh six, what if this really did get his parents in
trouble? He once again started to struggle against her hold. “She’s delusional
your majesty!”

He stomped on her foot and she
hissed. But her hold only tightened. “I am not you little-“

“Enough.” Clarus called, a frown
settling on his face.

Prompto immediately settled. He
crossed his arms though, and tucked his head between his shoulders. He looked
like a very upset chickadee then. Which, considering he was raised by two, made
sense. All he was missing was the…

“We need to see his wings, and that
will settle this.”

“W-what?” Prompto looked over at
Noctis’s father with wide eyes.

“Please, show us your wings.” Regis
said it kindly, but his face was pulled tight. To prove it, they needed to see
the pattern itself.

He looked at Noctis, who was
frowning. “Dad…I mean your majesty, he…his wings were hurt as a child. So he
binds them to his back.”

Regis only raised his eyebrow at
Prompto, and he knew he couldn’t lie. His own father would make that face at
him and he knew lying wasn’t the way to go.

“That’s… not entirely true.” He said
softly. “I didn’t want to leave my mom and dad.”

He lied anyways. Let them believe it
was his idea. Maybe then some of the fault would be taken from his parents.

“Wait…So…” Noctis looked pale. “You’ve
been binding your wings this whole time, and they’re healthy?”

“Yes.” He tucked his head behind some
of Crowe’s feathers, and she subtly shifted her wings to better cover him.

“Prom!” Noctis sounded upset.

“Miss Crowe, if you could be so kind
as to release the boy, I think we should probably go and get that binder off him.”
Regis said. He then turned to Ignis and continued, “Ignis, if you could be so
kind as to send for someone from the infirmary for a wing check?”

“As you wish.” Ignis bowed and then
left at a quick pace. But not before casting a worried look back at Prompto
before leaving.

“So long as I get him back soon.” Crowe
said with a small smile. She let go and Prompto tried darting for the doors
again, flight instincts kicking in now that he had a chance. But this time
Gladio scooped him up and put him over his shoulders, while Prompto let out a
yelp.

“Glady! Let go! Put me down!” He
said, starting to swipe at his back. “I need to go home!”

They ignored him until he calmed
down, to which Clarus said, “Are you sure he’s a Kestrel? He certainly has the temperament
of a chickadee.”

“If he’s not I’ll cut off my wings.”
Crowe said with a shrug. She was very sure of herself. But then she bowed to
the king. “By your leave, your highness.”

“As you will.” Regis waved a hand at
her and she turned to rejoin her friends. They nudged her with their elbows,
grins on their face, happy that she wouldn’t be alone in the Kestrel quarters
now.

Meanwhile, Prompto once again went
dead weight. Noctis occasionally let out a soft noise, trying to reassure him
as they walked, but he was ignoring him, content to play dead no matter how
ridiculous he looked in front of the king at the moment.

Blame it on the bird instincts.

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.

FFXV/RWBY AU

I have no idea why, but this has been kicking around in my head the past couple of days. It’s almost non-existent, but still. I figured I’d put it here. 

They’d all be the same age in this AU to keep things simpler.

Naturally they end up together on the same team. 

Noctis is the heir of one of the governing council seat in Mistral, but ran off to join Beacon Academy to be a hunter instead. (Why? Who knows. Maybe he just felt like seeing the world.)

Ignis and Gladio are his friends and worry about him. So both follow him, to hopefully bring him home. (They actually both end up joining the academy as well, oops.)

All three’s applications were accepted. 

Prompto just finished at Signal Academy and was accepted to beacon. 

Prompto and Noctis literally crash into each during the initiation ceremony.

Ignis and Gladio had it planned that they’d make an attempt to find each other first, then locate Noctis while in the forest. 

Noctis and Prompto make their way through the forest, and arrive at the objective at the same time as the Gladiolus and Ignis.

Noctis grabs one of the chess pieces and bolts with Prompto in tow, who runs with him even though he doesn’t quiet get why they’re running. 

Gladiolus and Ignis also grab one of the chess pieces and take off after him. 

Eventually Prompto gets tired of running and shorts stops, pulling Noctis backwards.

He didn’t realize how close behind the other two are and they all crash into each other. 

Intros are made, and things get sorted out for the time being. They ultimately decide to talk about what they’d do later. They begin to work together to get back safely.

They arrive safely back with their chess pieces. (None even realized they had grabbed the same ones.)

Prompto’s a bit horrified when the headmasters uses his first name when picking team names.

Prompto’s name is considered extremely odd since it’s neither a color or from nature, So he actually prefers going by his last name, Argentum, because it fits in with everyone else’s a bit better

I can picture a hilarious scene happening where, when all four boys are on stage, they announce his name and they’re all like, “Who the hell is Prompto?”

Up until that point, he had give his name as Argentum, and so has to fess up to the other three that, surprise, his full name is Prompto Argentum. 

Then they hear their team name.

PIGN. They’re team Pigeon. With Prompto being their leader.