#;prompto

[ourhearts-beatasone]

@royalbratprince continued from here.

Prompto had been very careful when he wrapped the soft fabric around Noct’s head and over his eyes, adjusting it to make it impossible for the prince to see what was going on around him. The fact that Noctis trusted him enough to let him do something like that meant the world to the blond boy, as he was sure he wasn’t really well liked by anyone but his best friend, he would cherish this friendship above all else, and it was just as important to him that Noctis knew that he could trust him, that he would always be gentle with him and never bring any harm upon him.

More. It was a simple demand, but the word being whispered while Noctis handed himself over made a shiver run down Prompto’s spine. He would be lying if he said he didn’t have a teeny-tiny crush on the prince, he would keep it to himself of course as he knew royalty was supposed to get together with other loyalty, but he sure would enjoy this as long as he could.

Prompto reached out to put his index finger beneath the prince’s chin, lifting it up to expose his neck and he leaned forward to trail his lips across the sensitive skin, not quite kissing it, only brushing his lips across Noctis’ neck to test out the reactions. Every sigh, every sound his friend let out only encouraged him and made a warm feeling spread out inside his stomach. “Noct, can I.. can I take your shirt off?”, Prompto eventually asked with a hint of nervousness in his voice, because as much as he enjoyed this, it still was most important to him that Noctis felt safe and comfortable.

[ourhearts-beatasone]

continued from here.

With growing curiosity the MT listened to the ongoing conversation between the two men in front of him; Verstael was the only familiar face, but the other man was nevertheless interesting with his red-violet hair and golden eyes, eyes that the MT was scared of losing himself in if he dared to take a closer look. Still he blinked in surprise when he was spoken to, not only was the question after his name irritating, the fact that it was the stranger asking him instead of Verstael made the whole situation even more extraordinary. His gaze flickered from one man to the other and back again, confusion expressed openly on his face with slightly raised eyebrows before he answered: “I do not have a name, but my model number is NH01987, I am specialized in handling range weapons, gunfights and espionage.” His words were followed by a nervous glance in Verstael’s direction as the MT knew that the older man liked to tell him that he was absolutely useless with no talents whatsoever and that he would rather send him to step into the incinerator instead of on any real missions.

When Verstael didn’t say anything to correct him, ’87 dared to take a step toward the stranger, holding out his camera for him to take. “Here, you can check out the pictures I’ve taken on the last training mission. I was told to follow and observe the target without it noticing me. I think I did a pretty good job. Oops, yes, that is a picture of myself. Oh, I took this picture of a cat on my way back to the facility.” Slightly embarrassed he took the camera back, lips pressed into a thin line as the MT was fully aware that pictures of anything besides the mission’s targets were strictly forbidden. Verstael didn’t seem to mind.

’87 had no idea what cruel idea was growing in the older man’s head, so he simply watched as Verstael beckoned another clone to step forward. Only when ’87 was handed a gun with the other MT standing in front of him in a slight distance realization slowly kicked in. Verstael’s voice was cold in the otherwise quiet room. “Close your eyes. Show the Chancellor what you can do.” ’87 looked at the man with wide eyes, panic clearly written on his face as he tried to stumble back from the scene, but he was already trapped with his back against the wall. “No. No, please don’t make me do this”, the blonde clone started to beg, knowing full well what was expected of him, but his pleas were quickly shut down by a harsh slap across the face that left his cheek stinging. “Do it if you don’t want me to set you on fire right here and now”, Verstael hissed with anger practically dripping from his tongue and ’87 knew the man meant every single word.

’87 didn’t have a choice. He closed his eyes, slowly raising the gun to aim it at the other MT. “I’m sorry”, he whispered as he shot his gun, twice, tears spilling down his cheeks and he didn’t have to open his eyes to know that he had hit bullseye. One bullet in the heart, the other neatly shot between the other MT’s eyes. This was his only talent. He never missed.

[psyncintheabis]

It seems he’s struck out at the Fantasy Costco-Denny’s, and at Fantasy Target, and pretty much any other stores he can think to stop at. Not a single Odoroki-man chocolate. Now he’s wandering through the stalls of the Southern Market, looking for something familiar. 

And from the looks of the person next to him, he’s not the only one.

“Are you looking for something from where you’re from too? I was looking for a chocolate. It, uh. It’s something my daught--roommate likes.”

@quicksilversbullet​ liked for a starter!