#izuumii

Day 18’s fic is ‘Steal Away Summertime’ by @hibiren with accompanying art by @izuumii

Not new art. I barely doodle anything cause HAHAHAH I was tired bUT I can post something that I have been working on for a week! Some of you managed to see the progression when I was streaming! So here’s Noctis.

P,S, I salute people that paints. It was an ass to do. 

Quick Fic Pick 78: the price we’ll pay for the dawn

“I’ll be fine,” he says, and he turns away from the frown that is still and already knotting on Ignis’s brow. “Everyone else needs the things we’ve still got. I’ll be fine. I’m still walking.”

“It’s the still that worries me. You know that,” and Prompto can hear far too many edges in those words. Edges like: worry and fear and calculation. The tallies, the ongoing logistics. How much Prompto’s managed to salvage and bring in this time, against how much -- and what exactly -- Prompto’s going to need this time.

Need, in terms of patching up: and gone are the days of easy healing. Not even Ignis can fix his scars now. 

One and two and three more, to add to the collection that he’s been making on himself, since Zegnautus Keep. 

He thumbs thoughtfully at the savage slashed-in sunken line running down his left temple, down almost onto his cheek, and he takes his leave of Ignis, and he’s not sorry, that there’s one thing he never turned in -- one thing he has no plans of turning in.

So he’s a hypocrite. He’s only human. 

In the shelter of the little room he’s claimed for himself, somewhere on the still-ragged outskirts of Lestallum, he throws the windows open wide to admit the light-polluted darkness -- murky brown shadows skittering away in the wan gray glow from the fitful spotlights -- and he faces himself in the mirror, and -- 

Okay. It does look bad.

He’s grateful Ignis probably never got a chance to see exactly what’s been done to him this time. Bruises still mottling his jawline from the last series of sorties. The long claw-scratches on his face are narrow, but deep, and he regrets even speaking, earlier, because now there’s a little too much blood pooling and caught in the ragged neckline of his ragged shirt and -- the thing’s not much good for anything else other than scraps, really, and he hates having to put something newer on, because, again, everyone else needs clothes and he’s far from the only person combing the wild darkness. 

The hunters, the last of the Glaives, the ragtag group forming around Gladio. Ignis and Aranea and Cindy, each serving their specific functions in the slow coalescing of humanity, the slow trickling gathering of people in the last cities of light. 

And there’s him. Just one person. Just one Prompto.

Shake in his hands as he patches himself up. The one thing he’d kept for himself, in secret. These bandages, at least, smell new: and that’s a strange thing to be caught on, he thinks. The smell of never-used cotton and linen and loose-woven gauze, quickly overtaken by the copper and hot rust of dried and drying blood. Water, tasting like iron, that he drinks straight from the drip in the tap and then he has to wash off the blood matting in his hair. 

Patching up his own hands is another matter: he’s had to go back to using actual bullets, and he’s still careless from time to time, still catches burns from the flight of spent casings, the heat of the magazine after it’s been ejected. His burned hands. His burned fingertips.

It’s done, somehow, eventually. He gets it done: gets himself all patched up and then he can feel all the strength leave him on a ragged breath, that he barely hears because he’s toppling into his makeshift bed and -- 

Tired. He’s so tired.

And still he sleeps and wakes himself up shivering, with a name on his lips. The ghost-sensation of missing warmth, missing life, the missing heartbeat he’d once held tight against his own: the counterpoint of a pulse beating with his own.

Okay I hope he turned out okay, but I absolutely adore this cutie and since its MerMay HAD to draw @izuumii‘s MerPrompto!! I had a lot of fun shading and drawing this!! :D 

Character is not mine 

So, seeing @izuumii ‘s amazing KittyProm artwork inspired me greatly. As you can see, because I’ve started a new fic. Not entirely sure where this’ll take us, but it’ll be fun finding out! :D

               Gurgle. Gurgle, gurgle, moan. Drawn out grumble. Another series of gurgles. More moans. Noctis could still hear it through the pillow over his head. Sighing heavily, he rolled over and pushed himself up onto his elbow.

               Prompto moaned again, curling tighter in on himself. The moonlight filtering through the tent wall illuminated the sweat drenching the man’s skin. Damp patches darkened his red tank top and his normally perky hair melted, limp, and oily. Tension strained his lean muscles and he shivered violently.

               Another low rumble emanated from Prompto’s gut.

               Two days of this, and it didn’t seem to be improving. Stomach cramps, vomiting, fever…All because of a handful of berries. Berries they only ate because they had no other choice. They were starving, separated from Ignis and Gladio for four days. A landslide closed them off in a tiny cavern mid-battle. All they had was a tiny trickle of water from a crack I the ceiling, and a scraggly grey plant bearing nocturnal fruit. They held off eating the berries, not knowing if they were poisonous. But days with only a little water and no food took its toll. They split the twenty-seven berries on the bush between them, thirteen for Noctis, fourteen for Prompto. Somehow, Noctis never got sick.

               Pushing his hair back with one hand, Noctis sat up. Finding the rag where it had fallen next to Prompto’s shoulder, Noctis dabbed sweat from the man’s brow. Yawning widely, he put the back of his hand to Prompto’s cheek, then his forehead.

               “How are you still so warm?” Noct mumbled, frowning. They tried every variety of curative in their arsenal once they got back to camp, but nothing worked. He couldn’t keep the meager sips of broth and water down, either. If this kept up any longer, they’d have to make the drive to Lestallum in search of a doctor. He couldn’t handle watching this suffering anymore. He wanted to help, but none of the things he tried doing amounted to much of anything.

               Prompto let out another pained whine, squeezing his stomach.

               Short of brief moments of unconsciousness, Noctis doubted Prompto slept since they got back.

               With a soft rustle, the tent flap opened and Ignis poked his head inside. “Any improvement?”

               Noctis shook his head, gently stroking Prompto’s hair.

               Sighing through his nose, Ignis knelt just inside the tent. “Has he thrown up much more?”

               “Not since he tried that soup earlier. What time is it?”

               “Five AM, Highness. Shall Gladio and I pack up the car? He really ought to see a physician,” Ignis said, pursing his lips as he stared at Prompto.

               Groaning, Noctis lowered his chin to his chest. “I know, but I didn’t want to put him in more pain by moving him. If he could sleep and relax…”

               “That would probably help, yes,” Ignis agreed. “I’m not sure he’s capable of doing so without medical intervention, however.”

               Rubbing Prompto’s flexed bicep in hopes it would somehow ease his shivering though it hadn’t before, Noctis warred with himself. He knew Ignis watched him, but he couldn’t take his eyes off Prompto. Swallowing hard, Noctis leaned over and kissed the man’s temple.

               “Highness?”

               “Okay. We better move fast, ‘cause we’ll probably need frequent stops.”

               Without a word, Ignis ducked back out of the tent, leaving Noctis alone with his sick boyfriend.

               “Prom, I’m sorry I can’t do anything for you.” Worry and heartache did not mix well with sleep deprivation. Tears burned Noctis’ eyes, but he refused to let them fall. Swiping his hands angrily over his eyes, Noctis decided to lay back down. He pressed his forehead between Prompto’s shoulders, sliding his hand in soft circles. He could feel the rumble of the man’s gut even on this side. It was low, gentle, and almost constant now. He hoped Prompto wasn’t getting worse.

               It wasn’t long before Gladio came to carry Prompto to the Regalia. Noctis grabbed a pillow and blanket before following them. He got into his usual place, trying to help Gladio position Prompto comfortably across the back seat and his lap. Once the man left to help Ignis take down the tent, Noctis spread the blanket over Prompto. He resumed petting his limp hair and stared down at his profile. The flush of fever still sat high in his cheeks, his brow was heavily furrowed, and that quiet rumble still drifted from him. Noctis had head all manner of noises come from Prompto’s stomach, but this was unlike any he heard before. Though it was somehow familiar. Oddly soothing, despite the circumstances.

               Squeezing in on himself again, Prompto grimaced, baring his teeth. He whined, digging his fingers into Noctis’ leg.

               “What the hell?” Frowning, Noctis leaned over and gently pulled Prompto’s top lip back. “What the hell‽”

               “What’s wrong, Highness? Has Prompto gotten worse?” Ignis asked, rushing to the side of the car, arms full of camping gear.

               “You tell me, Specs!” Despite Prompto’s scowling, Noctis held back the man’s lip for Ignis to see the bizarre new symptom.

               Setting his armful of gear down, Ignis looked at Noctis’ concern. “Oh…dear.”

               Noctis’ eyes shot up to his Advisor’s face. “Oh dear? That’s all you have to say? My boyfriend has fangs, Ignis! Fangs!”

               Prompto moaned, wincing away from Noctis’ hands.

               Noctis apologized, putting his hand back on Prompto’s head.

               Ignis sighed. “I’m not sure what you want me to say, Noctis. It appears his eye teeth have elongated into fangs. I’m not sure why or how.”

               “What do we do?”

               “I’m not sure there is anything we can do, Highness.”

               With a huff, Noctis turned his attention back to the man in his lap, effectively ignoring Ignis. “What’s going on with you?” he mumbled, rubbing his thumb across Prompto’s ear. The rumble seemed to get a little louder as he did, and Prompto’s fingers relaxed briefly, only to clench again. Then again. And again. And were his fingernails longer? And sharp! No, couldn’t be. He had to be hallucinating. Fangs and claws. No freakin’ way.

               “Let’s head off, shall we?” Ignis asked, getting into the driver’s seat.

               “How long’s the drive?” Noctis asked, raising his head and quirking a brow at Gladio, who was struggling to fold himself into the passenger seat.

               “A few hours. We ought to be there by supper time. Is Prompto comfortable?” Ignis asked, pulling the car out onto the highway.

               “As comfortable as he can be with stomach cramps and a fever,” Noct grumbled, looking back down. He combed his nails through Prompto’s hair, pulling the blond strands back from his face. He was careful not to scrape his ear, hidden beneath. Only he never felt the protrusion of the appendage. Brows furrowed deeply, Noctis pulled back the thick, fluffy strands, somehow less oily than they were earlier this morning. No ear.

               “Uh…”

               “What’s up, Noct?” Gladio twisted around in his seat to check on the prince.

               “Uh…” Noctis groaned again, moving more of Prompto’s hair out of the way. On top of his head, protruding from the strands, were two small, furry bumps. “Uh!!”

               “Noctis?” Ignis glanced in the mirror, eyes wide behind his glasses.

               “What the hell is going on‽”

               “Iggy, pull over.”

               “What? But we’ve only—”

               “Iggy, c’mon. Noct, calm down.”

               Noctis’ eyes briefly flicked toward Gladio. “Calm down? Prompto has no ears!” he shouted, quickly returning his attention to the fuzzy bumps, now triangles. They had grown in the minute since he first noticed them, now pushing through Prompto’s hair.

               “Excuse me?” Ignis’ voice was almost a squeak.

               “Just pull over, Ignis!” Gladio ordered, trying to sound like he had any idea what was happening.

               By the time the car was safely off the road and stopped, the small triangles had formed into full-blown ears. Firm, covered in blond fur, about five inches tall, and cat-like in every way.

               “Holy shit,” Gladio whispered with wide eyes.

               Ignis couldn’t manage more than a tiny gasp when he was finally able to take in the situation.

               A string of broke syllables poured from Noctis, his hand hovering over one twitching cat ear.

               “It sounds like…he’s purring,” Gladio pointed out, eyes darting between Noctis and Prompto. “And are those claws?”

               “No. No way. This…there’s no way! Ignis?” Brows drawn, Noctis pinned Ignis with a pleading gaze.

               Adjusting his glasses, Ignis blinked, hoping what he was seeing was somehow a trick of the morning sunlight. “I’m sorry, Highness, but I’m at a loss.”

               “This…I…this can’t,” –Noctis huffed—“This can’t be real! Those berries are making me hallucinate. Or something…”

               “And us, too?” asked Gladio, raising one thick brow.

               “What you ate would most likely have left your system by now. The symptoms began in Prompto no more than a handful of hours after he consumed them, correct?”

               Noctis nodded.

               “I think its safe to say they had no effect on you. Though why…this is happening, I’ve no clue.”

               The three men stared at Prompto where he lay, curled up against Noctis’ thigh. His hands continued to clench and relax, and the tension seemed to have gone out of his body. He no longer clutched his belly, and the rumbling tapered off to a gentle vibration from his chest. His ears swiveled, listening to any small sounds, and his nose twitched, picking up a smell on the light breeze.

               “D…does he…does he have a tail?” Gladio was torn between a smirk and a horrified grimace as he pointed to something moving in Prompto’s pant leg.

               More sputtering came from Noctis as he shifted to check his boyfriend’s backside. Biting his lip to stop the flow of incoherent noises, he tugged Prompto’s tank top from his waistband, then pulled his waistband away from his body.

               “Oh, no.”

               “Well?” Gladio prodded.

               Keeping his mouth firmly shut to avoid swearing, Noctis undid Prompto’s belt and awkwardly pushed his pants down. With one hand, he freed the blond, short-haired tail from the man’s pants. The appendage flicked in Noctis’ hand, the sunlight catching the light brown spots spattered through the blond.

               “Looks like you traded your chocobo for a kitten, Noct,” teased Gladio.

               “Gladio, this is serious,” Ignis said, shooting a glare at the man.

               “But also hilarious.”

               Noctis let out a groan, head flopping back against the seat. “My boyfriend is a cat! How is this even possible?”

               Ignis’ brow twitched. “We’ll figure this out somehow. But you must admit, he’s rather cute with his new…features.”

               Pouting, Noctis found himself rubbing one silky cat ear. “He’s always cute.”

               Ignis took a deep breath and struggled to take his eyes off this strange development. Turning around, he settled back in his seat. “Gladio, do you happen to have Professor Yeager’s number?”

               “Yeah, but she’s a biologist. What good’ll that do?”

               “It’s the best I can come up with right now. Perhaps I’ll come up with something better on the way to Lestallum. For now, call Yeager and see if she can help in any way.”

               “We’re still going to Lestallum?” Noctis asked, a hint of fear in his voice.

               “I still think it best we find a physician. He hasn’t woken up yet, after all.”

               “Sure you don’t mean a vet?”

               “Hey!”

               “Gladio, be nice.”

               “You’re laughing, too, Specs!”

               “You’re imagining things, Highness.”

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3 <--NEW!

The mysterious newcomer tells the boys just what is going on with Prompto, and how they can fix it.