hashtag_chocobro: (wibbleface)
It was happening again.

Prompto was having another dream, another nightmare, fueled by all the things this summer had given him so far. Knowledge of his origins, of what he really was, of what that barcode really meant. Visions of people messed up and lurching, desperate, no longer able to control themselves, no longer really human. But, hey, at least, as far as his recent nightmares had been going, this one wasn't so bad. Usually, the transformation was brutal, violent, forcing his body out of its current shell and into something monstrous, deamonic, in ways that made him wake up with a start, drenched in sweat, needing to throw up, desperately patting his chest, his arms, his face, making sure that he was still Prompto, he was still human, he wasn't something else...

Cut for Le Panic Extroirdinare. CW for mild self-harm. )

"It's...just another dream. It's okay, it's okay..."

It was not okay.

[[ who doesn't love a little existential torture in the morning, hmmm? Door closed, post open, though he may not be exactly sociable atm! ]]

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Prompto Argentum

February 2025

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