Prompt Post

Mar. 1st, 2017 05:21 am
[personal profile] ffxv_kinkmod posting in [community profile] ffxv_kinkmeme
 Welcome to Round Two of the FFXV Kink Meme!

CLOSED
 for prompts | OPEN for fills

Please have a look at the extended rules here.

The important rules in short:
  • Post anonymously.
  • Negative comments on other people's prompts (kink-shaming, pairing-bashing etc.) and personal attacks of any kind will not be tolerated.
  • Don't be an asshole.
  • One prompt per comment. Warnings for common triggers and squicks are encouraged, but not required.
  • Prompts should follow the format: Character/character, prompt.
  • Keep prompts to a reasonable length; prompts should not be detailed story outlines.
  • Fills should have the word "Fill:" at the start of the subject line.
  • Otherwise please avoid changing the subject line.

Please direct any questions or report any problems to the Ask a mod post.

Prompt, write, draw, comment, and most importantly have fun!

(You can also check out our Pinboard for Filled or Unfilled prompts)

UPDATE 3/2/2017: Per the Rules thread: Do not hijack prompts. I
f someone posts a prompt for one pairing, don't comment to say "I want to see this for [other kink]" - post your own prompt for the other kink). To that end, if you are unclear on a prompter's kinks/DNWs, please feel free to ask about them. If you ask about kinks/DNWs or to clarify a prompt, you are in no way obligated to fill it.

Additionally: Do not repost prompts from the previous round in their entirety. By this we mean copying and pasting prompts without any changes. If you see a similar prompt to a prior prompt, that is not a repost. Obviously prompts that are reposted per the above rule do not count either. (After all, they will be similar but not the same.)


ROUND TWO IS NOW CLOSED FOR PROMPTS!

Go ahead and keep on filling away, we will open up round three for prompts at 0000 EST, Saturday April 22, 2017.


From: (Anonymous)
The Citadel is about as oppressive as Noct remembers.

Grey stone walls slope in a curve along spiral hallways, which are arranged between offices, receiving rooms, and control rooms like a complex web that ends at the Spire, one of the most useless pieces of architecture Noct can think of. He's already promised the boys a trip to the top of it, one day, but aside from the view of Insomnia's smog at an elevated angle, the only purpose the Spire serves is as an impressive symbol to wow foreign dignitaries.

Noct's father's office is at the base of the Spire. Nyx and a small team of men and women accompany Noct through the web, resolutely refusing to speak to him as they go. It's another thing Noct hates about the place: He can be surrounded by people, and yet go days without any real human interaction. He wonders how Ignis is doing back at the apartment, whether Prompto and Gladio have met Aranea yet.

Gods, Gladio. Noct's stomach twists at the thought. Gladio's been clinging to Noct and Ignis lately, and here Noct is, heading to a useless photo op for a father he barely knows, while Gladio is being dragged to an outing by a mother he... barely knows...

Noct grimaces. It's bad enough dealing with these issues as an adult, when there's a lifetime of experience to put everything in context. But for a kid, who doesn't understand all the nuances of estrangement, but can feel the effects all the same? Noct curses himself for ever agreeing to this. He should be with the boys, not here, where all that awaits him is an hour of pained smiles and another hour of slowly kicking down the closet door. Again.

"Brace yourself, kid," Nyx whispers, as they reach Regis' office. Noct forces a smile and pushes open the door, feeling out of place in his worn grey suit and hastily combed-back hair.

He gets one look at his father, standing by the fireplace with an easy grin on his face and his hands in his pockets, when he hears it.

"Papa!"

Noct stops in his tracks. Regis turns to him, brows furrowing slightly. Nyx makes a strangled sound that could be a nervous laugh, and a white-haired young woman in military braid quirks one eyebrow as Prompto and Gladio fling themselves at Noct's waist.

"Hey, guys," he says, and drops to a knee.

"Papa?" Regis asks.

"I thought you weren't coming!" Gladio says, his face pressed to Noct's jacket. He holds on tight, and Noct pets his hair absently. Prompto places a foot on his knee and practically climbs him, wrapping chubby arms around his neck in a vice grip.

"Mom!" he says. "This is Papa, the one I was told you about on my birthday."

The white haired woman looks down at Noct with a cool, appraising eye. "I figured," she says, and Noct risks a smile.

"Nice to meet you," he says, and jerks back under Prompto's grip.

"Papa?" Regis asks, again. The President of Lucis is squinting at the boys, then at Aranea, and back to his son, trying to make sense of the past disastrous minute.

"Oh, no," Aranea says. "We're not a thing, Mr. President. He's the step-father. Sort of."

Noct chokes, but only partly due to the four year old dangling from his neck. The official camerawoman of the President snaps a picture, and Noct frowns.

"No photos of my boys, thanks," Aranea says, to his relief. The last thing Ignis needs is a picture of his kids plastered all over the internet.

"Can I see?" Prompto asks, and the woman smiles. "Papa, can I?"

"Sure," Noct says. "Ow. Ow. Easy, buddy." He pries Prompto loose, and only then realizes that the boy's mother is right there, listening to a total stranger give her son permission to do something. He casts her a look as he stands, but her expression is carefully bland.

Regis pulls Noct into the most stilted embrace of his adult life. Gladio shuffles to the side, holding on to Noct by the back of his jacket, and Noct huffs a little as Regis' hand slaps hard on his shoulder.

"You're always a wellspring of surprises, aren't you, son?" Regis asks. "How's Lunafreya, these days?"

"I'm still gay, dad," Noct says, without thinking. Regis' hope that Noct could settle down with someone respectable--and above all, socially acceptable enough for mid-term election season--has been a cornerstone of their handful of conversations over the past few years.

For a second, Noct sees Aranea grinning over Regis' shoulder, but by the time the President releases him, the woman is back to her expressionless mask. Noct can't help but be a little impressed. He could have used that skill, growing up.

What follows is the strangest Presidential photoshoot Noct has been subjected to. Regis explains that Aranea was chosen as a subject because of her children, who are Insomnian citizens, and who better to pose with her than the son of the President, who just happens to be her children's school-teacher?

"So you knew I was their teacher," Noct says, through gritted teeth, "but you didn't know I was dating their father."

"I could have known, son," Regis grits back.

"What a weird-looking statue," says Aranea, turning aside. "Hey, kiddos. Take a look at this thing."

When the official photo is taken, Aranea takes his hand and winks.

"Iggy sure knows how to pick 'em," she says, and Noct's wide-eyed look of surprise is immortalized on film.

Regis insists on having a moment to catch up with his son, but Aranea puts her foot down.

"Sorry, sir, but I'm the mom," she says. "Mom makes the rules. Your son promised me a tour, and I'm taking him up on it." Noct gives her an inquisitive look, and she steps on his foot, hard. "Say goodbye to the President, little bros."

"Bye, Mr. President," Gladio says, from behind Noct's legs.

"Bye, Grandpa Regis!" Prompto shouts. Noct and Regis make twin expressions of shock, and Aranea cackles. She drags the lot of them out of the room and into the safety of their security escort.

"So," she says. "Thought you needed an out."

"Thanks," Noct mumbles. He looks down at Gladio and Prompto, who are whispering to each other and bumping shoulders, and says, "You know, if you did want a tour..."


---


Noct shows Aranea and the boys to the private mess hall, which has, among other things, a fully-functional self-serve ice cream station. Aranea goads Gladio into piling his with almost every candy on offer, while Prompto, whose sweet tooth is more reserved, sticks with gummy bears and banana slices. Noct grabs a cup of soft-serve for himself, and the four of them slip into a booth at the far end of the hall.

“Well,” Aranea says. “I’ve never seen a man try to spontaneously combust before.”

Noct laughs. “Gods, I almost feel sorry for him.”

“Don’t,” Aranea tells him. “He should be lucky to have these nerds as grandkids. My boys are fucking angels.

Mom!” Prompto squeals, with a giggle.

“Shit, right. Don’t repeat what Mommy says, baby.” Prompto gasps. “Oh, come on.

Noct smiles to himself and leans over to wipe off a bit of ice cream from the table. “Someone needs a swear jar.”

“In the military? We’d be broke in half a day.” She looks at Gladio, who is swirling his ice cream into a maelstrom of chocolate and candy pieces. "Hey, little man. What's goin' on in there?" She taps his forehead, and he shrugs.

"Who's gonna sleep where?" he asks. Aranea tilts her head. "In the house. Is Dad gonna sleep on the couch, like he used to, or...?"

"Oh." Aranea shifts uncomfortably. "No, honey, I'm only here for a few days, remember? Because of the treaty."

Noct flinches.

"Not because of us," Gladio says. His ice cream has reached stone soup territory, now. "You didn't want to come."

Noct slides out of his seat. "Prom, you need to use the bathroom?"

"Not really."

"Bet you do. Come on, buddy, it's a long walk back to the exit." He takes Prompto's hand and heads for the family bathrooms in the corner, giving mom and boy some space. He doubts that anything will be settled today, but he can tell by the look on Aranea's face that she wants it to work.

By the time they return, Gladio is sitting next to his mom, taking deep, measured breaths while she rubs his back with her free hand. He stays at her side for almost half the walk to the exit, and even though he does latch on to Noct in the end, it's something. Noct says goodbye to them at the gates, promises he'll be back as soon as he has a talk with his dad, and turns into the dark halls of the Citadel.

"Well," he says to Nyx. "It was nice knowing you."

Nyx shrugs. "It was okay."

"Wow." Noct is led down another path through the web this time, and ends up in a small office set aside from the main one used for signings and photo-ops. Regis is there, his face a stormcloud, hands clasped together on the desktop.

"Leave us," he says to the security team. They scatter, taking up position behind the doors, and Noct is left on his own in the center of the room.

"Miss you, too, Dad," he says.

"Noctis," Regis says, and stops. He takes a breath. "I wonder if it crosses your mind what level of scrutiny is placed on the presidential family."

"Not much on my end," Noct says. "I'm boring. There's like, one paparazzi these days, and if I buy him pizza every now and then, he doesn't c--"

"You bribe the tabloids?"

"Pizza isn't a bribe, Dad."

Regis swipes a hand over his face, and Noct feels a pang of pity, thinking of the exhaustion that lay so prevalent in Ignis' features lately.

“Son, you know I’ll support you no matter who you choose to love—“

“But,” Noct says.

Son.

“No, you were about to say, but…

Regis turns aside. He's nervous, Noct thinks. He knows whatever he's about to say next will start a fight. “Can you wait to… progress things… until after the mid-term elections? The royalists are up in arms about re-establishing something that looks dangerously like a feudal system, and a scandal is all they’ll need to drum up support.”

“Scandal?” Noct asks. “What scandal? That your son’s gay? That he’s dating a man with kids? That his life is stable for the first time in decades? Yes, Dad! What a scandal!

“There’s no talking to you when you get like this, Noctis.”

“Yeah? Go to hell.”

The words slip out before Noct can stop them, and he knows he’s passed straight through the point of no return and out the other side. “Dad, wait. I—“

"You may leave," Regis says, in a voice that practically shakes with anger.

"Dad, no."

"If you're so eager to divest yourself of your family, Noctis, you may leave."

Noct stays where he is, staring down his father, thumbs jammed hard on the line of his jacket pockets. He looks up at the photos displayed behind Regis' head. All formal pictures of Noct in school, of Regis and his late wife, of men in military uniform standing against a grey backdrop. Noct thinks of the photos in Ignis' house, like the one of Prompto and Gladio in the bath, faces barely visible through a mountain of bubbles. The one of Ignis walking Gladio through his first steps. A later photo, taken by a fumbling four year old, of Ignis' hand on Noct's knee as the two of them watch Gladio play with his shield in the background.

"It must've been hard," he says. "Raising a kid on your own."

"Noctis, this isn't the time--"

"No, I think it is." Noct drags an antique chair in front of the desk and sits, resting his hands on his knees. He looks up at his father, and beyond the hard scowl and the proud eyes that always makes anger twist in his chest, Noct can see that Regis is tired. And so is Noct. It's time they bring this to an end.

"Dad," he says. "Let me tell you about Ignis Scientia."


From: (Anonymous)
I don't hate Aranea, but I am still worried how everything will go. Keep going Author Anony!

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