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Ardyn Izunia is a generous man. When he's presented with an itch, he has the decency to scratch it. Anything for a poor misguided soul who needs his guidance. Yes, Ardyn is merciful. When poor boys come to him, begging to be controlled, degraded, beaten, and trained, he cannot say no. No, he cannot. So when Prompto practically falls into his lap, drowning in his own self hatred, pleading him for some tender love and abuse, how can he refuse?He simply doesn't have the heart to. Oh, Ardyn has seen this type many, many times before. But no other broken boy Ardyn has taken under his wing has been quite as beautiful as Prompto, or as desperate for attention. He's fresh out of high school, needy in all the right ways, and just self-conscious enough that he's malleable. Easily persuaded.The darling loves to be hit. Scratched. Kept on the ground, on his knees. He loves looking up at Ardyn through those innocent eyelashes of his, all flushed and tied up to his Master's liking. Yes, Prompto would bend over backwards for his Master. He'd bend over far enough for his spine to snap in two if he was commanded to do so. So Ardyn gives him what he wants.He's a merciful owner.And Prompto is the best bitch he's had in a long, long time. There's something so beautiful about children like Prompto. They hate themselves so much. Prompto's loathing spurs him forward, he seeks to be hurt and debased, and the cycle continues. It gives him further reason to despise his existence, to feel dirty and used, and he crawls back to the man who makes him feel this way, because he knows that if anything, at least Ardyn will give him what he needs. It truly is so beautiful. The first time they meet, Prompto bumps into him on the subway. Ardyn hooks an arm around his waist, recognizing beauty when he sees it. The touch is intimate enough to make the boy jump in his hold, but innocent enough to be brushed off as a simple grazing."O-oh, I'm sorry!" Prompto says, skirting away from him. And yes, Ardyn thinks. This one would be fun to play with. They go their separate ways, but Ardyn remembers him. How could he not? Maybe it's a bit sick, but Ardyn could read the lines of trauma in his face easily. He's experienced in rooting out the depraved. It's only natural. And it's only natural that in time, he'd get what he wanted as well.And he does.The first time he has Prompto all to himself, they're in a shitty motel by the freeway. Ardyn had taken him out to dinner beforehand, of course. But now he had this little lamb, his little boy, all alone and defenseless. It's enough to make desire stir in his groin, and he has to suppress the groan he feels rising in his chest. His patience fractures.Prompto looks down, all shy, and fidgets with his hands. He knows what Ardyn wants from him, he knows what he wants to have, but Ardyn will not give it to him easily. He quirks his finger, beckons Prompto closer, and teases him apart."What would you like, dearest pet?"Prompto blushes. He's not used to praise, of course he isn't. Ardyn chose him specifically for that reason. When he doesn't get a verbal response, Ardyn leers. "Oh, you precious thing. Do you want me to hurt you?" He trails his fingers up to Prompto's neck. Holds them there, a promise of what he can have if he just--Prompto nods, practically ducking his head into Ardyn's grip. He slowly tightens his hold, feeling very superior indeed. "That's a good boy."Prompto melts into him.It really is that easy.Ardyn loves boys like this: just a little bit of praise, and they'll fall to your feet. It really is that easy.XAnd seeing Prompto at his feet is surely one of Ardyn's favorite sights in the world. His pet will kneel until he says otherwise. Will kiss his boots, so reverently. He's this kid's God, his sin, his savior, and he wouldn't have it any other way. He pours his every bit of devotion into lavishing leather.Ardyn presses his boot into Prompto's mouth, laughing at the desperate whimpering. "Do you like that, Pet?" He's met with an enthusiastic hum. Of course he likes it, he loves it. "What do we say?" he singsongs."Thank you Master," Prompto is practically breathless with how long he's spent kissing, licking, sucking. The poor thing hasn't paused, not once. "Thank you. Thank you, thank you. I don't deserve you.""No, you don't," Ardyn says, smug. "What do you deserve?" "To be hurt," Prompto answers. Ardyn has meticulously conditioned him, bent him to his satisfaction. The words are heavenly to his ears. "To be abused by you, Master."Ardyn feels a sick satisfaction burn in his heart. He tugs Prompto's leash, pulling his boy up for a ravenous kiss. Prompto stays pliant, not moving, and lets Ardyn use his useless hole as he sees fit. Lets him stick his tongue inside and explore his property. Prompto is his prey, his lamb, his gentle little dove. Ardyn is a beast, and he lives to devour the innocent.But he's just giving Prompto what he wants. He's merciful.XPrompto moves in after a while, and Ardyn is finally secure, knowing that his pet is now truly, wholly his. Prompto sleeps in his little cage, naked, subservient, beaten down and animalistic. Ardyn wakes in the morning and lifts the blanket off of his crate. The first thing Prompto sees is him, his God, and Prompto looks up at him as if there's nothing else in his universe for him to look at. He unlocks Prompto's cage, pets him, and waits for his darling to prepare him breakfast.It's the only time Prompto is allowed off his knees without expressed permission, and even then, his cuffs clink uncomfortably as he strains to move around the kitchen, limiting his mobility.This is how he likes his toys: sufficiently impaired and reliant on his mercy.Prompto will open his mouth at his spot on the floor next to table, eyes glazed over, and wait for Ardyn's decision. Will he eat that morning? It's completely up to his Master. If Ardyn believes he's deserving, he'll get out the blended sludge from the fridge and pour it into his bowl. If not, Ardyn will beckon him closer. Reprimand him. "You don't deserve it." and Prompto will understand. Will slowly unbuckle Ardyn's belt. Will keep him warm as an apology.Ardyn loves his little broken thing. It's just too easy; a simple tug at Prompto's collar, and he goes down, completely. A simple reprimand, and Prompto will flatten himself to the floor. And, oh! The delicious sound of a strong slap to his face... Prompto's tears, under his tongue. It makes him wish he could breed Prompto like the bitch he is. It makes him wish he had a womb to fill. He can only imagine. Prompto: chained to the floor, swollen. Ardyn hasn't a clue of what he would do with the children. But in his fantasies, he can only think of keeping Prompto pregnant until the day he dies. He can think of nothing less telling of devotion.But since he cannot breed Prompto, he brands him instead. His mark, forever tattooed into his wrist. Proof that he is little more than cattle to his Master. Proof, by way of barcode, that he is an item, an object, fit to be used as marketed. Ardyn will keep Prompto here until he must kills him. And he will use him, will hurt him, until that day comes. He will enjoy ever last second of it.As Ardyn bottoms out inside of the his pet, he groans. "Good boy."Prompto babbles phrases of reverence, and Ardyn knows in his heart that he was born to be this boy's God. Just as Prompto was born to be his.