Desperate Struggles To Make The Characters Actually Kiss.
I've been having a good time with the Final Fantasy Kiss Battle!
I've received some great responses to my prompts. necrophilia wrote me Edea/Seifer, and requiems wrote me Serah/Hope. (necrophilia and I actually both prompted Edea/Seifer at the same time, because we are both terrible people with great taste.)
I've also written a couple of ficlets myself. Here they are!
In response to xnera's prompt 'Prompto/Ignis or Prompto & Ignis, I'll be your guide'.
Without his sight, there’s little opportunity to draw Prompto aside unnoticed for a private conversation. Ignis resigns himself to the fact that Noctis and Gladio will know a conversation took place, and they may be curious.
“Prompto,” he says. “May I speak with you alone?”
“Oh, uh,” Prompto says. “Yeah. I mean, obviously. That’s fine.” A pause. “Uh, I guess I’ll find us someplace?”
He leads Ignis a short distance from their camp. Not yet dark enough for the daemons to come out, Ignis deduces, unless Prompto is being exceptionally scatterbrained today. Of course, in that case, Gladio would have prevented them from leaving.
“So... what did you want to talk about?” Prompto asks. He’s fidgeting noisily, shifting from foot to foot; Ignis doesn’t need his eyes to tell him that.
“I feel I’ve been a burden on you,” Ignis says.
“What? No! We’re totally fine. We need you around to, like, be sensible and - and Ignis.”
“You’re saying we,” Ignis says. “I was speaking of you specifically.”
“You think you’re a burden on me?” His confusion sounds genuine, and yet it’s a struggle to believe in it. “Why?”
Ignis finds himself reluctant to speak. What if it truly hadn’t crossed Prompto’s mind; what if he only learns to resent Ignis after hearing it laid out?
But it’s a discussion they need to have.
“You’ve been at my side since...” He gestures at his useless eyes, half wondering whether, after long enough in the dark, he’ll forget how to gesture at all. “Supporting me, guiding me, explaining the situation.”
“Uh, because I care about you, dude.”
“It’s a great deal for a person to take on,” Ignis says. “You have your own life. I don’t want to impose.”
It burns in his throat, the knowledge that he’s no longer useful. On this journey, he’s dedicated himself to making the lives of his companions easier and more comfortable. He’s fought for them, he’s driven them, he’s cooked for them. All skills he’s lost. Perhaps he’ll regain some of them, with practice, but there’s no telling how long that might take.
“Wait,” Prompto says. “Holy crap. You’re being insecure.”
Ignis pauses. “I’m not sure what to make of that reaction.”
“Sorry. It’s just... you’re Ignis. You’re the most got-it-together person I know.”
“How things change,” Ignis remarks.
“You really don’t need to worry,” Prompto says. “I’m totally, totally okay with helping. I want to help. You’re my friend. I mean, if - we’re friends, right?”
“We’re friends,” Ignis allows, after a moment. He’s never really thought of them in those terms before; he’s never been a person with many friends. But, on consideration, it’s hard to deny.
It tightens his throat, a little.
“So what was your plan?” Prompto asks. “You just... stay behind somewhere?”
“I’d need to discuss it with Noct, of course, but perhaps,” Ignis says. “Or we could hire some additional help, to take some of the pressure off you.”
“I mean, if you’re just thinking of hiring someone to fight, maybe?” Prompto says. “Maybe Aranea? That’d be pretty badass. But I don’t think we need to hire a guide for you. I mean - if you’re okay with me, if I’m good enough. I want to be there, uh. B-by your side.”
There’s a brief silence.
“You don’t sound especially confident,” Ignis points out.
“Well, yeah,” Prompto mumbles. “Because the stuff I’m saying is really embarrassing.”
“I appreciate it,” Ignis says, after a moment. If Prompto is truly being sincere, he owes him some sincerity in return.
“I mean it.” Shifting, movement. Prompto’s hand on Ignis’s wrist, then on his face, and then - it takes a moment for Ignis’s confused mind to parse it; did Prompto just kiss him on the cheek? “Seriously. You’re important to me - like, to all of us, obviously, not just me, have you seen how worried Noct - uh, I mean - holy crap, did I just kiss you?”
“I wasn’t expecting it,” Ignis admits.
“Six, I’m so sorry! Oh, man, I - holy crap, I can’t believe I did that, it just - it felt like a normal thing to do! It just felt like the thing you do in this kind of conversation!” His voice is climbing shrilly towards the heavens. “It is absolutely not the thing you do in this kind of conversation!”
“To clarify,” Ignis says, mildly, “when you asked whether we were friends, what sort of answer were you hoping for?”
“Please don’t tell the others I did that,” Prompto begs. “Please, please, please, please don’t say anything.”
It’s a struggle not to smile. “I suppose I can hold my tongue.”
“Thank you,” Prompto says. “Thank you times a billion. Wow. We’re completely even for any help I’ve ever given you.”
It’s a flippant comment, but something about it helps to settle Ignis, somehow. For a moment, he lets himself believe that it’s true, that he’s paid back his debt.
In response to enemytosleep's prompt 'Aerith/Yuna, the weight of the world rests on your shoulders'.
“It’s not really fair, is it? Dying young.”
Yuna tries to have a smile for everyone who approaches her. It falters and fades as she registers what’s been said. “I...”
The question sounds like it should be rhetorical, but the woman who asked it is watching her expectantly, head cocked to one side, waiting for an answer.
“It’s a burden I shoulder gladly,” Yuna says. “For Spira’s sake.”
She wants the people of Spira to sleep easily after she defeats Sin. If she lets them believe she feared her fate, they might feel sad; they might feel guilty. It’s important to be brave.
“People won’t remember who you were, you know,” the woman says. “They’ll remember this... this perfect version of you. It’s kind of frustrating. I don’t like being jealous of myself.”
Yuna doesn’t take her staff in hand, not yet. But she touches it, to make sure it’s there. “You... have experience?”
“You could say that.”
Her clothes are unusual, now that Yuna is paying attention. From an earlier time? They look like they could be machina-made.
“I’m Aerith, by the way,” the stranger adds, after a moment. “Maybe I should have led with that.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Yuna says.
Aerith laughs. “Really? I think I’ve kind of messed this meeting thing up.”
It’s Yuna’s response to any introduction; it came out without thought.
“It’s... a little strange to meet you, too,” Yuna admits.
“I wasn’t planning to be so intense,” Aerith says. “I just have some complicated feelings about sacrifice. I thought maybe you’d want to talk to someone who might... kind of understand.”
“You’re unsent,” Yuna says.
“Apparently,” Aerith says. “I don’t really understand how death works here. I think I somehow returned to the wrong planet.”
Yuna has no idea what to make of that.
“I just think you’re facing something really difficult,” Aerith says. “I wanted to help you talk it through.”
Yuna tilts her head. “That... sounds like you want me to change my mind, perhaps.”
“I don’t know,” Aerith says. “Maybe? You remind me of myself, a little. It’d be nice to see one of us live out her life.”
“There are other lives at stake,” Yuna says. “I’ve made my decision. I’m sorry. But I will not abandon my pilgrimage.”
Aerith laughs again. “You definitely remind me of myself.”
Yuna hesitates. “But... I appreciate the concern.”
It feels like she shouldn’t say it, somehow. Like she’s admitting that, if she had the choice, if she wouldn’t be kept awake all her life by the thought of Sin’s victims, she would want to live.
The world needs her to walk to her fate with a smile.
Aerith’s expression softens. “You’re carrying a lot, huh? You sure you don’t want to talk about it?”
Yuna shakes her head. “It feels selfish to complain to someone who has... who has already passed on.”
“I’m not important here,” Aerith says. “There’s nothing that can be done for me. You’re still alive.”
Yuna finds it difficult to hold her gaze.
She should send Aerith, she knows. It’s her duty as a summoner. But when she’s faced with an unsent who looks and moves and speaks like a person-
The unsent aren’t alive. But it feels like removing Aerith from the living world would be killing her.
All she can think to do is seek permission. “Did you approach me because you wanted me to send you?”
Aerith blows out a long breath. Yuna finds herself wondering how that works, for the unsent. Do they need to breathe at all?
“Honestly, no,” Aerith says. “I mean, I - I understand the natural order. The cycle of life. You return to the Lifestream; that’s how it’s meant to be.”
“The Lifestream?”
“Oh. Never mind. The Farplane, I mean.” She pauses. “But... I’d like to stay a little longer, if I can.”
It’s probably Yuna’s responsibility to argue against that. “The unsent... lose themselves, eventually. They become fiends.”
“Weeeeell,” Aerith says, adopting a conspicuously thoughtful pose, “I’ll just have to stick close to you. That way there’s always someone there to send me if I start trying to eat people, right?”
“You’d like to travel with me?” Yuna asks, taken aback.
“I’m kind of invested,” Aerith says. “I’ve heard so much talk about the lady summoner. And, now that I’ve actually met you - I don’t know, you’re interesting.” She pauses. “If you beat Sin, I want to see it. And, if you get to live your life, I want to see that, too.”
It’s hard for Yuna to envision her life extending beyond this pilgrimage. She knows she won’t give it up. If another summoner brings the Calm, she might have a few more years, at least. But the summoner who died in her place will haunt her.
“This is... very sudden,” Yuna says.
“Give it some thought.” Aerith startles her with a quick kiss. By the side of the mouth, not quite on the mouth; it’s hard to read the intent. She pulls back and winks. “I promise not to be boring.”
Yuna has had very little idea of how to react for most of this conversation, but she finds herself laughing now. “I think I can trust you to keep that promise.”
Aerith would be a strange addition to their travelling party, perhaps. It makes Yuna shiver, the idea of being guarded by someone already dead. But she can’t deny that she’s curious about Aerith, her life and her death, her use of strange phrases.
And, if Aerith really does understand what Yuna is facing, perhaps it truly would help to talk about it.
('Riona, did you name your Aerith/Yuna fic Across the Distance after Celene Dion's "My Heart Will Go On"?'
N-no. No. No, of course not. No.)
I've received some great responses to my prompts. necrophilia wrote me Edea/Seifer, and requiems wrote me Serah/Hope. (necrophilia and I actually both prompted Edea/Seifer at the same time, because we are both terrible people with great taste.)
I've also written a couple of ficlets myself. Here they are!
In response to xnera's prompt 'Prompto/Ignis or Prompto & Ignis, I'll be your guide'.
Without his sight, there’s little opportunity to draw Prompto aside unnoticed for a private conversation. Ignis resigns himself to the fact that Noctis and Gladio will know a conversation took place, and they may be curious.
“Prompto,” he says. “May I speak with you alone?”
“Oh, uh,” Prompto says. “Yeah. I mean, obviously. That’s fine.” A pause. “Uh, I guess I’ll find us someplace?”
He leads Ignis a short distance from their camp. Not yet dark enough for the daemons to come out, Ignis deduces, unless Prompto is being exceptionally scatterbrained today. Of course, in that case, Gladio would have prevented them from leaving.
“So... what did you want to talk about?” Prompto asks. He’s fidgeting noisily, shifting from foot to foot; Ignis doesn’t need his eyes to tell him that.
“I feel I’ve been a burden on you,” Ignis says.
“What? No! We’re totally fine. We need you around to, like, be sensible and - and Ignis.”
“You’re saying we,” Ignis says. “I was speaking of you specifically.”
“You think you’re a burden on me?” His confusion sounds genuine, and yet it’s a struggle to believe in it. “Why?”
Ignis finds himself reluctant to speak. What if it truly hadn’t crossed Prompto’s mind; what if he only learns to resent Ignis after hearing it laid out?
But it’s a discussion they need to have.
“You’ve been at my side since...” He gestures at his useless eyes, half wondering whether, after long enough in the dark, he’ll forget how to gesture at all. “Supporting me, guiding me, explaining the situation.”
“Uh, because I care about you, dude.”
“It’s a great deal for a person to take on,” Ignis says. “You have your own life. I don’t want to impose.”
It burns in his throat, the knowledge that he’s no longer useful. On this journey, he’s dedicated himself to making the lives of his companions easier and more comfortable. He’s fought for them, he’s driven them, he’s cooked for them. All skills he’s lost. Perhaps he’ll regain some of them, with practice, but there’s no telling how long that might take.
“Wait,” Prompto says. “Holy crap. You’re being insecure.”
Ignis pauses. “I’m not sure what to make of that reaction.”
“Sorry. It’s just... you’re Ignis. You’re the most got-it-together person I know.”
“How things change,” Ignis remarks.
“You really don’t need to worry,” Prompto says. “I’m totally, totally okay with helping. I want to help. You’re my friend. I mean, if - we’re friends, right?”
“We’re friends,” Ignis allows, after a moment. He’s never really thought of them in those terms before; he’s never been a person with many friends. But, on consideration, it’s hard to deny.
It tightens his throat, a little.
“So what was your plan?” Prompto asks. “You just... stay behind somewhere?”
“I’d need to discuss it with Noct, of course, but perhaps,” Ignis says. “Or we could hire some additional help, to take some of the pressure off you.”
“I mean, if you’re just thinking of hiring someone to fight, maybe?” Prompto says. “Maybe Aranea? That’d be pretty badass. But I don’t think we need to hire a guide for you. I mean - if you’re okay with me, if I’m good enough. I want to be there, uh. B-by your side.”
There’s a brief silence.
“You don’t sound especially confident,” Ignis points out.
“Well, yeah,” Prompto mumbles. “Because the stuff I’m saying is really embarrassing.”
“I appreciate it,” Ignis says, after a moment. If Prompto is truly being sincere, he owes him some sincerity in return.
“I mean it.” Shifting, movement. Prompto’s hand on Ignis’s wrist, then on his face, and then - it takes a moment for Ignis’s confused mind to parse it; did Prompto just kiss him on the cheek? “Seriously. You’re important to me - like, to all of us, obviously, not just me, have you seen how worried Noct - uh, I mean - holy crap, did I just kiss you?”
“I wasn’t expecting it,” Ignis admits.
“Six, I’m so sorry! Oh, man, I - holy crap, I can’t believe I did that, it just - it felt like a normal thing to do! It just felt like the thing you do in this kind of conversation!” His voice is climbing shrilly towards the heavens. “It is absolutely not the thing you do in this kind of conversation!”
“To clarify,” Ignis says, mildly, “when you asked whether we were friends, what sort of answer were you hoping for?”
“Please don’t tell the others I did that,” Prompto begs. “Please, please, please, please don’t say anything.”
It’s a struggle not to smile. “I suppose I can hold my tongue.”
“Thank you,” Prompto says. “Thank you times a billion. Wow. We’re completely even for any help I’ve ever given you.”
It’s a flippant comment, but something about it helps to settle Ignis, somehow. For a moment, he lets himself believe that it’s true, that he’s paid back his debt.
In response to enemytosleep's prompt 'Aerith/Yuna, the weight of the world rests on your shoulders'.
“It’s not really fair, is it? Dying young.”
Yuna tries to have a smile for everyone who approaches her. It falters and fades as she registers what’s been said. “I...”
The question sounds like it should be rhetorical, but the woman who asked it is watching her expectantly, head cocked to one side, waiting for an answer.
“It’s a burden I shoulder gladly,” Yuna says. “For Spira’s sake.”
She wants the people of Spira to sleep easily after she defeats Sin. If she lets them believe she feared her fate, they might feel sad; they might feel guilty. It’s important to be brave.
“People won’t remember who you were, you know,” the woman says. “They’ll remember this... this perfect version of you. It’s kind of frustrating. I don’t like being jealous of myself.”
Yuna doesn’t take her staff in hand, not yet. But she touches it, to make sure it’s there. “You... have experience?”
“You could say that.”
Her clothes are unusual, now that Yuna is paying attention. From an earlier time? They look like they could be machina-made.
“I’m Aerith, by the way,” the stranger adds, after a moment. “Maybe I should have led with that.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Yuna says.
Aerith laughs. “Really? I think I’ve kind of messed this meeting thing up.”
It’s Yuna’s response to any introduction; it came out without thought.
“It’s... a little strange to meet you, too,” Yuna admits.
“I wasn’t planning to be so intense,” Aerith says. “I just have some complicated feelings about sacrifice. I thought maybe you’d want to talk to someone who might... kind of understand.”
“You’re unsent,” Yuna says.
“Apparently,” Aerith says. “I don’t really understand how death works here. I think I somehow returned to the wrong planet.”
Yuna has no idea what to make of that.
“I just think you’re facing something really difficult,” Aerith says. “I wanted to help you talk it through.”
Yuna tilts her head. “That... sounds like you want me to change my mind, perhaps.”
“I don’t know,” Aerith says. “Maybe? You remind me of myself, a little. It’d be nice to see one of us live out her life.”
“There are other lives at stake,” Yuna says. “I’ve made my decision. I’m sorry. But I will not abandon my pilgrimage.”
Aerith laughs again. “You definitely remind me of myself.”
Yuna hesitates. “But... I appreciate the concern.”
It feels like she shouldn’t say it, somehow. Like she’s admitting that, if she had the choice, if she wouldn’t be kept awake all her life by the thought of Sin’s victims, she would want to live.
The world needs her to walk to her fate with a smile.
Aerith’s expression softens. “You’re carrying a lot, huh? You sure you don’t want to talk about it?”
Yuna shakes her head. “It feels selfish to complain to someone who has... who has already passed on.”
“I’m not important here,” Aerith says. “There’s nothing that can be done for me. You’re still alive.”
Yuna finds it difficult to hold her gaze.
She should send Aerith, she knows. It’s her duty as a summoner. But when she’s faced with an unsent who looks and moves and speaks like a person-
The unsent aren’t alive. But it feels like removing Aerith from the living world would be killing her.
All she can think to do is seek permission. “Did you approach me because you wanted me to send you?”
Aerith blows out a long breath. Yuna finds herself wondering how that works, for the unsent. Do they need to breathe at all?
“Honestly, no,” Aerith says. “I mean, I - I understand the natural order. The cycle of life. You return to the Lifestream; that’s how it’s meant to be.”
“The Lifestream?”
“Oh. Never mind. The Farplane, I mean.” She pauses. “But... I’d like to stay a little longer, if I can.”
It’s probably Yuna’s responsibility to argue against that. “The unsent... lose themselves, eventually. They become fiends.”
“Weeeeell,” Aerith says, adopting a conspicuously thoughtful pose, “I’ll just have to stick close to you. That way there’s always someone there to send me if I start trying to eat people, right?”
“You’d like to travel with me?” Yuna asks, taken aback.
“I’m kind of invested,” Aerith says. “I’ve heard so much talk about the lady summoner. And, now that I’ve actually met you - I don’t know, you’re interesting.” She pauses. “If you beat Sin, I want to see it. And, if you get to live your life, I want to see that, too.”
It’s hard for Yuna to envision her life extending beyond this pilgrimage. She knows she won’t give it up. If another summoner brings the Calm, she might have a few more years, at least. But the summoner who died in her place will haunt her.
“This is... very sudden,” Yuna says.
“Give it some thought.” Aerith startles her with a quick kiss. By the side of the mouth, not quite on the mouth; it’s hard to read the intent. She pulls back and winks. “I promise not to be boring.”
Yuna has had very little idea of how to react for most of this conversation, but she finds herself laughing now. “I think I can trust you to keep that promise.”
Aerith would be a strange addition to their travelling party, perhaps. It makes Yuna shiver, the idea of being guarded by someone already dead. But she can’t deny that she’s curious about Aerith, her life and her death, her use of strange phrases.
And, if Aerith really does understand what Yuna is facing, perhaps it truly would help to talk about it.
('Riona, did you name your Aerith/Yuna fic Across the Distance after Celene Dion's "My Heart Will Go On"?'
N-no. No. No, of course not. No.)