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hello! i love your work :) are you planning on finishing the Emergency Protocol series? :0
You're very sweet, Anon! Thank you. <3
I'm not not finishing Emergency Protocols. I know what the next installment is supposed to be about (two chapters, a short-ish time skip, all Prompto POV). I've just had some complicated feelings about the series and the fandom since I posted the final chapter of Fallout, so I haven't gotten around to properly revisiting it.
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EMERGENCY PROTOCOL FALLOUT (COMPLETE)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions of Violence
Relationships: Prompto/Noctis, Prompto + Ignis, Noctis + Ignis, Gladio + Noctis
Additional Tags: Unrequited Crush, Canon-Typical Violence, Xenophobia, Pre-Canon, Politics
Summary: Prompto went online on his phone, just once, while Ignis was making their dinner, trying to see if there was any news.
It was a massive mistake, of course, because the one thing that everyone has up is footage of a disheveled Noctis leaving the mall with Gladio and a Crownsguard escort. His clothes were dark with blood, his eyes were trained on the ground, and his face was scarily blank. Not Ignis-scary-blank, which makes people scared for themselves, but Noctis-scary-blank where people are scared for him.
The headlines that aren’t focused on Noctis are focused on the total number of casualties, and Prompto just can’t wrap his head around it. Six dead, seventeen injured, and him. His name’s not out there in the media—no one’s is yet, but Prompto knows it’s just a matter of time, and that’s another thing he’s trying not to think about—but in between the shock and the outrage and the grief, people are already speculating about why only one of the dead people could be revived.
Prompto stares at the ceiling, heart beating out at anxious rhythm against his breastbone, trying really fucking hard not to start pacing again because if he gives in to that urge he’s just going to pace himself into oblivion.
Out, out, out, he’s going to get out.Â
Prompto checks his phone again. No new texts, and it’s still a couple minutes away from eleven. He’s been up since six thanks to an annoying combination of nightmares and his obnoxious heart and then had five hours to get showered and dressed and then wait.
Noctis invited him over. All day. Video game tournament, movies, whatever Prompto wants, so long as they stay in. He’d sounded so apologetic about it, like it was somehow an offer he wasn’t sure Prompto would take. Prompto just wants to exist in the same space as another human being. He wants—
He wants to see that Noctis is okay. Live, in person. Not just phone calls and texts. Even though Prompto is—not scared. Nervous. Both, maybe. Shit.
Emergency Protocol Fallot turns 2 today
So have another snippet:
“Now that the Crownsguard has deemed it safe enough for Noctis to resume some of his regular duties, my first order of business is to reschedule several meetings and events that were canceled. I’ll likely spend much of this afternoon in the study with Gladio.”
Prompto almost misses the next step. “Gladio’s going to be there?”
“There have been some changes to security at the apartment building,” Ignis says, and Prompto tries to keep up a firm grip on his rising anxiety. He’d been mentally preparing for Ignis and Noctis—but separately. And no one had mentioned Gladio. “Gladio will be spending some time reviewing the new procedures to ensure things are working as intended. We’ll be as unobtrusive as possible, as I know both you and Noctis value time with just the two of you.”
Prompto scrabbles for a response that won’t make him sound like he’s panicking. “You make it sound like you’re crashing our date night.”
Ignis isn’t easy to startle a laugh out of, though Prompto must have caught him off guard because it takes a second for Ignis to muster up a dry, “Is that what I’ve been scheduling all this time?”
I just wanted to pop in and say how much I appreciate your writing. I feel it doesn’t get as much recognition as it deserves and you’ve done an absolutely fantastic job of creating a very tangible and enjoyable story. I’ve been into FFXV stuff since it came out, and you’re Emergency Protocol series is definitely Top 3 for me. I remember discovering it in the tags a couple years ago and being completely enamored within the first couple paragraphs. But yeah!!! You’re an excellent writer and I am looking forward to seeing what you do next :)
You’re very sweet, anon! <3 Thank you so much for sending me a note, I appreciate it.
Sometimes I feel like I came into the fandom too late and wrote too slowly, so I’m happy to know that you like the Emergency Protocols that much.
Up next, I hope to finish What Fades Away and start the planning of another collab. I’m also participating in the FFXV Remix, so I need to get that sorted out. And maybe, maaaaaybe, test the waters in a new fandom, we shall see.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions of Violence
Relationships: Prompto/Noctis, Prompto + Ignis, Noctis + Ignis, Gladio + Noctis
Additional Tags: Unrequited Crush, Canon-Typical Violence, Xenophobia, Pre-Canon, Politics
Summary: Prompto went online on his phone, just once, while Ignis was making their dinner, trying to see if there was any news.
It was a massive mistake, of course, because the one thing that everyone has up is footage of a disheveled Noctis leaving the mall with Gladio and a Crownsguard escort. His clothes were dark with blood, his eyes were trained on the ground, and his face was scarily blank. Not Ignis-scary-blank, which makes people scared for themselves, but Noctis-scary-blank where people are scared for him.
The headlines that aren’t focused on Noctis are focused on the total number of casualties, and Prompto just can’t wrap his head around it. Six dead, seventeen injured, and him. His name’s not out there in the media—no one’s is yet, but Prompto knows it’s just a matter of time, and that’s another thing he’s trying not to think about—but in between the shock and the outrage and the grief, people are already speculating about why only one of the dead people could be revived.
Prompto wakes early on Saturday morning by habit, even though he hasn’t gone running in over a week now. He stares up at his darkened, pre-dawn ceiling, feeling--not rested, exactly. Just very—still. It’s the first time since he died that he’s woken up without any lingering nightmares, which ought to feel like progress.
It doesn’t, though. His brain was too busy to conjure nightmares because instead it was connecting a bunch of background puzzle pieces so it could triumphantly dump this thought in his lap: my parents haven’t tried to reach me.
It’s the mental equivalent of stepping on broken glass, only worse, because he knew this area was littered with it before he waded in barefoot.
Prompto never had the guts to ask why they adopted him in the first place. They never bothered to explain why they took him in and then just—didn’t stick around.Â
They showed up two days after he finished high school, explained that they would be selling their house, and handed over all of his legal paperwork. They made sure that his phone was transferred to an account in his name, told him he could keep whatever furniture he wanted, and provided a graduation gift of an apartment deposit in a checking account that wasn’t connected to them.
It took a couple days to get everything settled and for Prompto to move himself into his studio. That was the longest stretch of time he’d seen them since he was nine.Â
If they’re in Insomnia, there’s no way they missed what happened to Noctis. What happened to him. His name, their family name, has been all over the news. Even if they didn’t see it, surely someone they knew saw it and asked them if their son was the one the whole city was in an uproar about.
He still has the same cell phone number. The same email address. He hung on to them, in case—
This shouldn’t be a surprise. This shouldn’t make him want to curl up and cry. Prompto reaches for his phone to check one last time, and then he deletes their contact information.
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions of Violence
Relationships: Prompto/Noctis, Prompto + Ignis, Noctis + Ignis, Gladio + Noctis
Additional Tags: Unrequited Crush, Canon-Typical Violence, Xenophobia, Pre-Canon, Politics
Summary: Prompto went online on his phone, just once, while Ignis was making their dinner, trying to see if there was any news.
It was a massive mistake, of course, because the one thing that everyone has up is footage of a disheveled Noctis leaving the mall with Gladio and a Crownsguard escort. His clothes were dark with blood, his eyes were trained on the ground, and his face was scarily blank. Not Ignis-scary-blank, which makes people scared for themselves, but Noctis-scary-blank where people are scared for him.
The headlines that aren’t focused on Noctis are focused on the total number of casualties, and Prompto just can’t wrap his head around it. Six dead, seventeen injured, and him. His name’s not out there in the media—no one’s is yet, but Prompto knows it’s just a matter of time, and that’s another thing he’s trying not to think about—but in between the shock and the outrage and the grief, people are already speculating about why only one of the dead people could be revived.
