#like prom is not happy that noct wants him to be his weapon partner at first

[calamity-jam]

More Soul Eater Au!!  Technically a prequel to this where prom is a weapon hesitant to transform as his pistol form is a dead giveaway to his origins in Niflheim and accidentally ends up partnering with Noctis, the crown prince who just so happens to be looking for a weapon partner. Shenanigans ensue, and the two become the best meister-weapon pair in insomnia. Eventually, noct reveals to prom that he’s a weapon himself, able to transform into the form of every weapon in the armiger! :D

[archonssun]

Huntin’ For Your Touch

Your timing was impeccable nonnie. I’m so stuck on my other stories rn 😭 Also, cuz I’m a slut for angst, this is gonna get sad...😈

Huntin’ For Your Touch

WC: 1763

Prompto didn’t get it. Whenever he was around Cindy, he’d be a bumbling mess, but around you ... he almost felt normal. He didn’t stumble over his words, he didn’t make a fool of himself. But in a way, speaking with you was more nerve-wracking than speaking with Cindy. You were a hunter, after all, and you’d have no problem kicking his scrawny ass.

Maybe that’s why he never told you. Maybe that’s why he’ll never get the chance to.

***

When he first met you, it was during their trip to Altissia, shortly after the fall of Insomnia. When they had met Cor at Keycatrich Trench, you had been there, standing at the Immortal’s side. More than anything, the gunman was curious who you were -- you didn’t look like a member of the Crownsguard, but you weren’t just some random civilian, either, if the weapons strapped to your sides were anything to go by. It wasn’t until the boys, Cor, and Monica took down the Imperial blockade that he learned you were a relative of the Immortal.

*

“Hey, um, not to be rude or anything, but who are you?” Prompto approached you cautiously. As he got closer, he noticed a small scar running across the bridge of your nose. It was faint; he hadn’t noticed it when he first saw you because it was so faded. It must’ve been pretty old.

“(Y/n),” you responded, giving the blond a quick once over before going back to maintaining your short swords. “And you’re not being rude, Prompto. It’s natural to be curious about a stranger.”

“How do you know my name?” his blue-violet eyes narrowed on you for a split second. Heaving a sigh, you placed your swords off to the side and directed your attention to him.

“Cor talks about you a lot, y’know,” you answered. You took in his reaction -- his brows furrowing and his face scrunching in confusion -- before you continued. “He thinks of you like a son. He’s proud of you.”

Prouder than me, at least. That’s what your expression said, and the gunslinger frowned -- not something he did too often. But he didn’t get the chance to say anything as you grabbed your weapons and walked away.

Prompto swore he heard you sniff.

***

The next time he saw you was in Old Lestallum. You had joined Dave on his hunt for dog tags. At that time, you had gained more scars across your hands and one that split your lower lip. Considering it had only been a few weeks -- a month, at most -- since you had last seen one another, Prompto couldn’t help but wonder what the older hunter was having you do.

“Dave,” you had called for the older man as soon as you had seen the Regalia pull into the small town. It wasn’t all too long after that that you were joining the four men in their search for some missing tags.

That day happened to be when Prompto realized something: he cared for you, deeply. In a more than platonic way.

That also happened to be the day that you were seriously injured while protecting Noctis.

*

“Noctis!” your shout rang across the battlefield. It had caught Prompto’s attention immediately, and when he turned he saw a Magitek Assassin charging his best friend. For his name’s meaning, Prompto wasn’t ready at all. Noct was in stasis after having defeated multiple assassins at once, and he could barely move. He was just a second too slow to raise his gun, and it only took that single second.

Prompto watched as you collapsed to your knees, a short sword jammed through the assassin that had targeted Noct. But what made his blood run cold was the blade sticking out of your back. He could only be a bystander as the assassin disintegrated, it’s blade staying where you had been impaled -- just below your right collarbone. His hands started shaking, his gun dematerializing as Ignis and Gladio rushed to their king’s side, as well as yours.

You were a hunter. You hadn’t taken an oath to protect him, yet you had risked your life for Noct. It was enough to shake each of the men to their cores, seeing someone that was basically a complete stranger try to protect the Lucian heir.

It was Prompto’s job to call Cor, to tell him what had happened. It wasn’t even a few hours later that the Immortal was in Lestallum, clutching your hand as fear made itself known on his face. In all the time Prompto had known the marshall, not once could he remember him looking so distraught -- especially over the possibility of someone dying.

Prompto learned another thing that day; he learned just how closely you and Cor were related.

*

“Please, (Y/n),” Cor’s voice trembled as he grasped at your cold hands. “You can’t leave me, too.”

Prompto stood off to the corner of the room, guilt weighing heavily in his heart.

If I had just been two seconds faster, then--

“D-Dad…?” voice crackling, your (e/c) hues met Cor’s, fear evident in them. The marshall’s grip tightened around your hand in response, trying to calm you. Tears welled in your eyes at the sight of the man and you turned onto your side as you sobbed. “Dad…”

***

After that, Prompto didn’t see you until the darkness had already set in. And when you saw Noct wasn’t with the retinue when they came back, it was Prompto that had cried with you.

Since you had almost died protecting the prince, you had grown close to each of them, but with Noct in particular. He seemed like a brother to you, and the fact that he hadn’t come home from Gralea broke you.

Not that you had been overly cheerful before they had left, you became a husk, only doing what was needed to survive and nothing more. And Prompto was with you the whole way, trying to make you smile. Or at least make you forget, for even a second, that Noct was gone. It was really for the both of you -- Prompto missed the prince more than anyone else. He hadn’t just lost a king back in Gralea, he had lost his best friend.

***

You and Prompto had grown close over the past seven years. There wasn’t a single day that you two went without one another. You two had become each other’s crutch in the absence of Noctis. 

You had both changed in that time. Where once you had had long (h/c) hair, you had to cut it because of the absurd number of hunts you’d go on on a daily basis -- and washing daemons guts from long hair was a less than enjoyable affair. Prompto had done something similar, cutting back the fringe that used to fall in front of his right eye when he was twenty. Like every other hunter alive, you two looked tired, and neither of you could remember the last time you had gotten any real sleep.

Currently, you were sitting in the plastic patio furniture in front of the caravan in Hammerhead, trying to get any sleep your body would allow. You had just come back from a particularly nasty hunt that left you more exhausted than it should have. Just as you had begun to get comfy, a sound had you alert once more.

You shot up from your chair, head swivelling as you tried to pinpoint where the sound was coming from. But it proved difficult; even after relocating several times, you couldn’t determine its origin. It was only because you had thrown your head back in frustration that you saw Prompto sitting on the roof of the caravan. Your brows knitted together as they met his form. One leg was pulled into his chest while the other dangled off the caravan, and his head was buried in his arms.

Had it been any darker, you never would have seen the slight tremor in the blond’s shoulders. Worried for your partner, you were quick to scale the trailer and sit next to the man that had become an unlikely friend.

“Prompto, you good?” At your voice, Prompto’s body tensed. You were sure of it now; the man had been crying. He sniffled, rubbing at his eyes before meeting yours. He gave you a smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Yeah. I’m fine, don’t worry,” he said. He yelped when you pinched at his ear, tugging slightly.

“Bullshit,” you seethed. On more than one occasion, you had found the usually happy-go-lucky blond crying, and each time he had brushed off your concerns. But you wouldn’t let him, not this time. “I’ve known you far too long for that smile to work on me. You need to focus, Prompto. We have a hunt in a few hours, and I don’t want either of us getting hurt because you were stuck inside your head.”

Your words had come out harsher than intended, and you regretted it immediately when the blond’s face fell. You quickly replaced your scowl with a frown and cupped his face in your hands.

“You’ve always helped me out. Why won’t you let me help you?” you whispered, watching as his eyes went wide and his face turned red. “At least, let me try to help you? Please?”

Prompto nodded slowly, and your lips turned upwards slightly.

“What can I do, Prom?” It was the first time you had given him a nickname in the seven years you had known him, and he was shell-shocked. Your smile fell as you watched him, waiting for a response.

It was quick, and it left you wondering just how long he had wanted to do it. His gloved hands pulled your face to his, pressing his chapped lips to yours.

“Just stay with me? Please?” his voice was small, quieter than a whisper as he pleaded with you.

“Always.”

***

“Prom.” You could barely speak, the pain becoming too much. Your body shook like a leaf as you coughed, and Prompto was quick to pull you into his arms, pressing a hand to your bloodied side.

“C’mon, (Y/n). Stay awake, please.” Tears spilled from his blue-violet eyes, landing on your cheek. “Just stay awake for a bit longer. You’ll be fine.”

Hand shaking, you reached up to touch his cheek, giving him a sad smile. Your fingers carded through the blond strands before your palm settled on his cheek.

“Don’t stop, Prom,” you wheezed. “Don’t look back. Noct will need you when he gets back. Keep pushing forward, and everything will be okay.”

[ferix-writes]

Time Enough-Fluffy OT4 Happy Ending Fic

This fic was written as a ko-fi commission for @sinnerbeam! Thank you so much for supporting me through ko-fi! 

If you would like to commission me for a fic, please check out my ko-fi page!

Sinnerbeam wanted a fluffy OT4 happy ending fic about the four boys transitioning the monarchy to a democracy. There’s also a small mention of transguy Ignis right at the end. Hope you all enjoy!

“Ignis?” Noctis murmured one night, while Gladio brushed out his unruly mane after a shower and Prompto tinkered with a pocket watch at the desk nestled in the corner of their quarters.

Ignis, seated on the bed next to Noctis, looked up from his book and studied the King; he was flopped back on their large bed with his hands resting behind his head and his gaze wandering the ceiling.

“Hm?”

“I don’t want to be king anymore,” he said as he exhaled.

 He sounded tired and wistful, but not yet exasperated. Ignis marked his page in the book and set it down on the nightstand before folding his hands in his lap and turning his full attention to Noctis. There was so much to say of that request, yet so much had already been said.

Across the room Gladio set down the brush and began braiding his hair, but Ignis didn’t doubt for a minute that he had an ear on the conversation. Prompto kept his gaze on the broken pocket watch, but stopped tinkering.

“I know, Noct,” Ignis sighed, reaching down to run a hand through Noctis’ fluffy and freshly washed hair. “We’ve done all we can for now. All the things that could be set in motion at the moment are in motion. We can only hope that the council and the new committees will continue to run smoothly. And if they don’t, it means more meetings and heated debates and agreements made behind closed doors, but we will have to endure it nonetheless.”

Noctis hummed, indifferent toward the answer. Ignis was right, there was no doubt about that, but such logic was the same thing Noctis already listened to time and time again.

“It may take years, still, for a new government to gain the citizen’s trust and prop itself up on the unsteady legs of the first election.”

Instead of responding, Noctis sighed and rolled over to press his face into Ignis’ hip. Ignis’ hand followed suit and shifted to cradle the back of his head, his thumb still stroking reassuring circles into Noctis’ scalp.

“I know,” he moaned. “ ‘s just nice to dream sometimes, you know?”

Ignis chuckled as the King inched himself closer. “It certainly is. And some day it will be a reality. Some day far off, but some day nonetheless.”

Silence reigned over their quarters once again, save for the soft shift of clothing as Gladio pulled on lounge pants and the quiet tic-tic-tic of Prompto’s tools against the metal insides of the pocket watch.

Too distracted to keep working, though, Prompto spoke up.

“Won’t we lose all this once you aren’t king anymore, Noct?” he asked, motioning to the opulence of the room around them. It was something he thought about on the regular—not that he was any stranger to living in the opposite of the lap of luxury. The memories of his bland and lonely childhood were practically a creed he lived by—don’t expect anything from anyone; his needs were more important than the needs of others; and don’t take anything for granted.

Since becoming friends—lovers, even—and living with the King, those first two were easy to forget. He was lulled into a false sense of security by the blessing of wealth and abundance, but the third was harder to shake.

Why be wasteful and throw something away when it could be mended? It was a valuable skill on the road, when clothing and weapons and camping gear took more wear and tear than they were ever meant to take, and one that stuck with him to that day.

Noctis could easily afford another pocket watch—hell, he could buy out the whole store if he wanted to—but Prompto couldn’t let anything salvageable go to waste. He’d saved countless damaged possessions in his childhood. The prospect of their cushy lifestyle dropping out from under them suddenly triggered harsh memories of his childhood, where he could only have something if he mended and saved and took care of it.

Noctis rolled back over and sat up. “Nah. Don’t worry, Prom, if there’s one thing I’ll never escape it’s the wealth of the crown,” he said. “We’ll probably downsize to some grand manor on the north side of the city, maybe close to Iris and the Amicitia manor?” he postured, catching Gladio’s smirk out of the corner of his eye.

“A downsize, but a very welcome one,” Ignis echoed, resting his chin against his fist as he imagined what their lives would be after all of this.

“Five bedrooms, five bathrooms, a home theater-slash-gaming room and a big backyard with a pond, or that’s what I’ve always imagined, anyway,” Noctis said, not missing a beat.

“Huh,” was all Prompto could say in response, a little dumbfounded. Perhaps he was too paranoid after the year on the road, followed by ten more of darkness and squalor. That time felt like decades ago, now, but it was impossible to forget.

Gladio finally joined them in the main room and plopped down on one of the plush armchairs in the sitting area. “What’s your plan after that, Noct? Spend the rest of your days in bliss next to a fishing pond while Iggy feeds you?” he joked.

“C’mon, big guy, give me a little more credit,” Noctis said, sitting up on the bed. “I assume you’re only asking me because you can’t wait to get back to a life of camping twenty four-seven, living naturally in nature and all that.”

“Well if you’re gonna go fishing for days you need someone to watch your back.”

“I won’t be fishing all the time,” Noctis answered.

“What will we all be doing, then?”

Prompto interrupted before the other two could continue their banter.

Even though Noctis was confident they’d be fine, the prospect of suddenly leaving all of this— the Crownsguard and the Citadel and the restoration committee—kind of scared Prompto. A lot.

Where would he be in life without Cor giving him a job with the Crownsguard? Probably dead in the streets of Insomnia or wandering Lucis as a poor refuge. And now he was part of the King’s inner circle. He never could have achieved any of it without the crown, which was now in the process of dismantling itself. What would he do next?

“I dunno,” Noctis started, defensive. “You guys—We can all do whatever we want. We won’t have as many official duties anymore, but I’ll always be a public figure. I doubt I’ll ever be able to pull Ignis away from politics, so he’ll probably stay more involved around here,” he said, casting a knowing glance at Ignis. He got a knowing smile in return.

“Gladio will likely be welcomed into some position in the military, and you’ll probably be offered one, too. You’d be great at teaching cadets how to handle firearms and shoot.” Prompto’s heart skipped a beat at the suggestion. Again, he couldn’t see past his own fear and hang-ups from the past, but his partners were always there to guide him through the haze.

“But with the rest of our time…treat yourself. Focus on your hobbies. Do whatever makes you happy, Prom.”

Prompto broke eye contact with Noct and exhaled, humming a little in agreement as he tried to process the idea. He turned back to his pocket watch.

“What do you want to do, Noct?” Ignis postured.

Noctis sat, pondering, for a few moments. “I guess I just want to…relax. I want the people to get to know me—the real me. Not the me from news reports.”

Ignis nodded. “An answer befitting a true King.”

Noctis almost rolled his eyes, but stopped himself. “I just wanna move on with life. A more normal life. I wouldn’t mind…you know…” Noctis trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck as he hesitated. This was something they’d never spoken about before. “I wouldn’t mind having some kids.”

Dead silence reigned over the room for a moment as the other three considered the idea.

“You mean like…with Iggy?” Prompto said softly. Ignis looked to Noctis for a response.

“W-w-well no, not without letting him decide first and stuff. It was just an idea, you know? There are lots of ways for us to have kids—”

“I’m…not opposed to it, Noct,” Ignis interrupted his sputtering. “But there are many things to consider.”

“Having a child is very harsh on one’s body. A surrogate might be a better choice,” Gladio chimed in.

“Yeah, that’s true…” Noctis replied, unable to hide his disappointment. “I was just hoping that at least one of them could be, like…ours.”

Ignis chuckled and broke the tension by grabbing Noctis around the waist and pulling him closer to press a kiss to his temple. “I haven’t said no yet, Noct. There’s much to discuss, but we’ve plenty of time, after all.”

This fic will also be up on Ao3 soon.