Summary: Prompto doesn’t quite know how to love himself.
Pairing: Gen
AO3
Prompto doesn’t quite know how to love himself.
He knows how to fall in love with others and loving others is easy. He falls in love every day with the dogs that he passes on his runs, with each person who greets him with a smile as he shouts hello when he passes by them. He falls a little bit more in love every day with the rising sun that follows his progress from the river back to his house.
He loves how his school’s windows always let the sunlight come into all the classrooms during the day, loves the scattered spots of shade made by the trees in the courtyard that he thinks of jumping to and from, pretending the spots of shade are the only safe zones and everywhere else is lava. He once told Noctis about it and the prince had snorted with laughter, almost choking on his juice.
(Prompto had fallen in love with that too.)
He loves the walk home with Noctis, falls ever deeper with every single one of Noctis’ smiles when Prompto shows him a photograph he’s particularly proud of.
He falls in love with Ignis before he even meets him by falling in love with his cooking first after Noctis shares his lunch with him one day because he forgot to bring money to buy his own that day.
He falls in love with Gladio before he meets him too, when Noctis quietly tells him how Gladio easily lifts swords and weapons as tall as him when they train but has a little sister who he treats like an absolute princess.
When all four of them are together, Prompt falls in love all over again. He falls in love with their banter, the easy companionship and thinks this is the closest he has ever felt to belonging.
He knows how to love because loving others is easy, loving the world around him is easy. The world gives him so many reasons to fall in love and Prompto fills his whole heart with them so he doesn’t have to love himself.
~~~~~~~~
The month before their planned trip to Altissa, Prompto’s long-time camera breaks.
Instead of wide-eyed sympathy, Noctis looks contemplative but Prompto is too absorbed in his own woes to notice. He whines because Noctis sits and listens and he answers all of Noctis’ questions about camera brands and which ones he likes in-between everything else he says without a second thought.
The next day, Noctis gives him a new camera and several additional add-on camera lenses and pieces—all of them things Prompto wants and has been saving up for.
He’s speechless.
“Iggy looked up the brands and the places where they sell all the things. Gladio and I went to buy them.” At Prompto’s dumbfounded expression, Noctis grins. “What? You can't exactly be the camera man of the road trip without a camera.”
“I – yeah.” Prompto swallows, still doesn’t know what to say. His throat feels dry, for some reason. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.”
He manages a smile, weak and watery. “Thanks, Noct.”
Noctis looks at him, grin turning into a concerned frown.
“You know I was joking, right?” he softly says. “I – we didn’t get this for you just because of the trip. We did it because it was for you.”
Prompto still doesn’t know what to say, wants to laugh for some odd reason and there’s a bubbling in his chest he’s having trouble containing.
“Yeah, I know,” he finally manages to get out, the same watery grin in place. He holds his new camera closer, a gift too precious for words.
~~~~~~~~
Prompto knows how to love the world because it’s easy to love others and there are so many reasons to.
But he’s never realized how much the world loves him back.
Summary: You fall in love with the sun and your sister won’t stop being smug about it because she’s known all along.
Pairing: GoSpark
Notes: My very gay gift for @revolocities as thanks for all the GoSpark he has given to the world. Thank u.
Additional comments: Very Gay (and terrible) and written in second person POV. Enjoy.
AO3
You think you would do best in Valor or Mystic. Valor would teach you strength, conviction and the will to never give up. Mystic would teach you resourcefulness, cleverness and the drive to seek knowledge in all forms.
But your sister—
Your sister—Gogo—knows you’ll be happiest in Instinct.
You don’t believe her, of course, even if she is your twin but she pushes and harasses you until you finally give in and agree to at least talk to Instinct’s leader before making your decision.
“I won’t join,” you tell her, firmly and with all the resolve you possess.
She smiles, smug and confident. “We’ll see.”
~~~~
You’ve only ever see Instinct’s leader in pictures and in the introductory pamphlet Professor Willow had given you when you were starting your Pokemon journey—simple low resolution copies of a spiky blonde hair man who smiles like he’s trying to copy the brightness of the sun.
Then you meet him, and realize that none of the pictures have ever done justice.
“Nice to meet you!” Spark smiles at you, eyes crinkled at the corner and back bent forward so he reaches your height and look you in the eyes. “You must be Go, the new pokemon trainer!”
You realize that Spark’s smile does not mimic the sun—his smiles are a sun in itself.
And, without even realizing it, you have fallen hopelessly and effortlessly into his orbit.
~~~~
“I told you,” Gogo says to you, with all the smugness of being proven right, when you tell her which team you’ve joined.
You swat at her hat and she pinches you in the arm and before you know it, you’re both wrestling in the grass.
Ten minutes later, there are grass stains all over your new pants and shirt and Gogo has enough grass and dead bits of pinecones and dirt stuck in her hair to make a nest but you’re both breathless with laughter and there’s a lightness in your chest that makes you almost dizzy with feelings.
“See?” She grins, pinching your cheeks. “You’re smiling more than you have this past hour than you have in the past two years. That’s proof you were meant to be with Instinct.”
There’s no way joining a team is enough to make you this happy, you want to say but Spark greets you every morning when he goes on his morning run without fail, never forgets to text you a reminder to feed both yourself and your pokemon when it’s time for meals and always always finds a way to make you fall deeper into his orbit with every smile.
But you don’t tell your sister that. Instead—
“Bet I can kick your ass in battle,” you say and she grins, sharp and brimming with confidence (a Valor member, through and through).
“You’re on.”
~~~~
The first time Spark hugs you, it’s when you hatch your first egg.
You don’t even realize it’s happening because one moment, you’re watching a Pikachu poke it’s head out from the top of the shell and the next, you’re bowled over by a whirlwind of limbs and laughter against your shoulder and hair tickling the bottom of your lips.
“Congrats, buddy!” Spark cheers, patting you on the back before he’s spinning you around, arms wrapped tight around your waist.
You’re too surprised to even make noise but your Pikachu lets out it’s first cry that has Spark (gently) dropping you to the ground and both of you peering down to the electric Pokemon in your arms.
“Hey lil guy,” Spark half-whispers to your Pikachu, eyes and mouth still bright with a smile but soft and gentle, like the spring sun that welcomes in warmth after a long winter. “It’s great to finally meet ya. Your trainer here has been working super hard to help you hatch.”
“Pika?” Pikachu looks up towards you, dark eyes wide with the wonder of a child who had only ever heard stories of the sky and is now seeing how beautiful it is for the first time.
The smile comes naturally and makes it easier for you to reach out to pat Pikachu on the top of it’s head.
You repeat Spark’s words. “Nice to meet you Pikachu.” And then, “I’m Go, your Pokemon trainer.” You rub the top of Pikachu’s head, surprised at how soft it feels even as you feel the small tingles of electricity that runs across it. “Let’s work hard together, okay?”
Pikachu grins, happy as it can be. “Pika!”
~~~~
‘You make the world beautiful,’ you almost say to him once, during the night when you’re travelling through the tall grass in search of Dark pokemon and watch the glow of the moon splash against his skin between the tree branches and make him almost ethereal—a human of blood and bone and silver.
“Hey Go!” He laughs, waving his arm of blood and bone and silver in your direction. “Hurry up and get over here, or you’ll miss the Ghost pokemon procession!”
‘I love you,’ you almost say in response and you have to quickly cough, so as to swallow those words.
~~~~
(But they always remain—just on the tip of your tongue.)
~~~~
You fall, fast and hard and deeper than you ever thought possible. The feelings are steadfast, unwavering and you almost can’t believe there was a time you were not in love with your team leader.
He leans on your shoulder and you lean back so he’s more comfortable. He hugs you around the waist from behind when he wants to surprise you and you laugh and lace your hands together with him. He asks you to help groom his pokemon and you bring enough supplies to put a salon to shame.
And when he kisses you underneath the scalding afternoon sun among your napping pokemon and both of you sweaty beyond belief and covered in bug bites from a morning of catching pokemon and hatching eggs, you can’t think of a moment more perfect.
~~~~
Like a ripened apple, the words finally fall off your tongue.
“I love you,” you murmur against his shoulder when you’re sure he’s dead asleep in the small bed the two of you are sharing that night.
You realize he’s not when the arms against your back slide up between your shoulder blades and there’s a lazy kiss against the edge of your ear.
“Love you too,” is the quiet sigh you hear.
~~~~
You thought you would do best in Valor or Mystic. Valor would teach you strength, conviction and the will to never give up. Mystic would teach you resourcefulness, cleverness and the drive to seek knowledge in all forms.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
In which I convey all my frustrations over how ridiculously married Shiro and Keith are while simultaneously procrastinating on all my other fics and delaying my bedtime so I will more than likely keel over in the ICU tomorrow during rounds.
“He’s a Chaser (In More Ways Than One)”, Countdown to Countdown
Summary: Lillium really likes the Slytherin who always comes to watch the Gryffindor Quidditch team practice. The rest of the team? Suffering.
Pairing: Lillium/Iris
Notes: So I love Countdown to Countdown. And I love anything that puts a series in HP-verse so when I saw this post I was SOLD.
It’s relatively short but I hope I did your characters justice @velocesmells!!
Now in Russian.
“He’s here again.”
Not really paying attention and half-slouched in the stands, Lillium boredly flips through his History of Magic textbook as he waits for practice to start. “Who?”
“The Slytherin, Black.”
“What?” Boredom forgotten, Lillium sits ramrod straight, his textbook practically flying out of his lap. “Iris is here?!”
One of his fellow Quidditch Chasers rolls his eyes and jerks his thumb towards the Slytherin’s Quidditch stands. “See for yourself.”
Hunched into his scarf to ward off the cold March air and with robes tucked tight against his small body, fifth year Slytherin Iris Black looks like he’s just crawled out of bed. Thin, black bags under his eyes and a slightly big beanie on his head make him even smaller than he already is (it’s a wonder more people haven’t mistaken him for a first or second year).
Lillium, however, thinks he looks perfect.
“How does my hair look?” The Gryffindor Chaser begins to frantically run his hands through his hair. “Is the gel wearing off? Do I need to put some more in? Or maybe I should try for a more natural look? What do you think Iris will like?”
“Oh my god,” their team’s Seeker groans, seated a bleacher behind Lillium. “Why does he ask this every single time?”
“You stick enough industrial gel in your hair to make it stick for days when we play,” one of the Beaters calls out as they fly by on their broomstick.
“And Black could care less about what your hair looks like,” his other fellow Chaser says, her voice semi-muffled by the Potions textbook over her face.
“Aw come on guys,” Lillium complains. “Can’t you be a little more supportive?”
The Gryffindor Quidditch team share an exasperated look before one of them throws Lillium’s broomstick at his face and tells him to hurry up and go talk to Black before they throw him off the stands and Black has to visit him in the Hospital Wing instead.
Iris Black is one of the smartest students in the fifth year, beating out even a couple of Ravenclaws in the school rankings. He’s also one of the few Hogwarts students who doesn’t care much for Quidditch but he always comes to watch the Gryffindor team practice.
At first, they had thought he was there as a spy but then he spent the entire practice staring at Lillium and Lillium spent the entire practice trying to discreetly (“trying”, being the key word) watch Iris from the corner of his eye when he thinks Iris won’t notice and the entire team starts groaning because god, could the two of them be even more obvious?
In the present, Lillium has just flown over to the Slytherin stands with a grin he really hopes does not make him look like a creeper.
“Hi,” he says, parking his broom parallel to the stands.
Iris’ eyes flicker to him and the bottom half of his face burrowed in his scarf unburrows itself so Lillium can see the tiny smile on his lips.
“Hey,” Iris says in return.
‘Be cool, be cool,’ Lillium chants in his head. ‘Don’t stare at him. Whatever you do, DON’T STARE.’
(Even though he really can’t because wow, Iris looks really cute with that beanie and that tiny smile of his. And up close, Lillium can see the bits of Iris’ bangs that won’t stay beneath his beanie and poof up outside of the brim which is even cuter and shit he’s been staring too long abort mission abort ABORT—)
“So how about that Potions class yesterday?” Lillium blurts out. “That Swelling Solution really likes to swell, yeah?”
Iris doesn’t laugh but his shoulders hunch inwards like he is and his tiny smile blossoms into something a little bigger. “Only when you forget to grind the lizard scales before adding them to the brew.”
“I knew I was forgetting something,” Lillium mutters. He sheepishly scratches the back of his head. “I’m usually not that bad at Potions, I swear.”
“Maybe you just need some tutoring,” Iris suggests.
“What?” Lillium grins. “Are you offering?”
“If you take me on a date, I will.”
“Sure if you’ll—wait, what?”
Iris is cheekily grinning up at him now, the shy tiny smile gone to be replaced by something more inviting, more outgoing. “Hogsmeade. This weekend. Meet at the Three Broomsticks at three?”
“Uh.” Lillium’s blanking because holy shit is this actually happening? “Yeah, sure. Three at the Three Broomsticks.”
“Great.” Iris is still grinning that cheeky grin but it’s a little sly now too. “I think your captain’s calling for you.”
“White!” The Gryffindor captain bellows. “Stop flirting with your boyfriend so we can start practice already!”
Lillium goes from 0 to 120 on his broom so fast it would have put professional Quidditch players to shame, as he joins the rest of his team by the rings.
The moment Lillium isn’t looking in his direction, Iris ducks back into his scarf and practically collapses, boneless, on the floor of the stands.
“I am not embarrassed, I am not embarrassed,” Iris chants even as his cheeks and ears grow too warm and he swears his heart is beating fast enough he’s going to ascend, here and now.
The Gryffindor captain is yelling again.
“White, you dumbass! Stop throwing the Quaffle in the wrong goal!”
Iris snorts; at least he’s not the only one embarrassed.
“I’m twenty-one, you’re twenty-one, he’s four,” an Arslan Senki sitcom AU
Based off this AU.
This is not a complete story, just some bits and pieces I wrote because I’m a sucker for sitcoms + Hermes interacting with baby!Arslan + Daryun being 100000% done with everything and everyone (except Arslan, of course :D)
I hope you like this @heroiclegendofcinnamonroll!
1. Introducing, Arslan
It’s ten o’clock on a Monday night, Daryun has an eight a.m. class tomorrow, then work until seven—and Hermes just crashed through his apartment door.
How the hell does he always find my spare key, is Daryun’s first thought.
Is that a kid he’s holding, is his second and, probably, more relevant thought.
“Daryun!” Hermes half-bellows, looking a mix of panic and sheer apprehension as he holds the small child up by his armpits. “How do you raise a kid?”
Daryun’s first instinct is to say “NO” and throw Hermes out. But that would mean he would be throwing the kid out too and while Hermes deserved getting kicked out (Daryun’s been compliling a list of Hermes’ idiotic stunts since they were seven and is pretty sure he could fill a novel with them at this point), the wide-eyed, innocent child does not.
So instead, he blurts out what his second thought is.
“For one, you don’t hold them up by their armpits,” he tells Hermes.
Hermes actually has to pause, like he has to think this through before looking down at the child in his arms. The child, whose eyes were now glued to Daryun, beams and points at Daruyn.
“Big!” he exclaims happily, bright eyes wide with wonder and delight.
Daryun feels a headache coming.
2. Childhood friends are not good friends
The child’s name is Arslan.
“I’m not going to ask any questions,” Daryun says even as he’s giving Hermes the evil eye, a silent message that means ‘explain later or else’. “And I’m only letting you stay the night. Only tonight.”
He makes sure the emphasize the tonight; his apartment may have two bedrooms but Daryun himself has not equipped it to support more than one person and the occasional guest (a.k.a Hermes when he’s too lazy to go back to his own place) and definitely not a child.
Hermes scowls but quickly turns to Arslan who’s trying very hard to take sips from the too big mug in his hands, and whispers something into his ears.
Arslan’s eyes widen and he whips his head towards Daryun, tears gathering at the corner of his eyes and lips pulled downward in the beginning of a frown.
“Mr. Daryun, you’re going to kick us out? Please don’t!” Arslan looks like he’s on the verge of breaking into sobs. “It’s cold and dark and scary outside!”
Daryun quickly back-tracks. “O-of course I’m not kicking you out. Stay as long as you want!”
Arslan’s tears quickly dry and he gives Daryun another one of his beaming, innocent smiles that could make flowers grow. “Thank you, Mr. Daryun!”
‘I’ll get you for this,’ Daryun silently mouths at the smugly smirking Hermes.
