Prompt Post
Mar. 1st, 2017 05:21 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ffxv_kinkmod posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
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:
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. If 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.
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. If 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.
Regis/Clarus - Papa and Daddy
Date: 2017-03-03 03:31 pm (UTC)++Gladio hating that Noctis is the Chosen King
++Regis breaking down to Clarus when he finds out the fate of their baby
++Noctis always sneaking into their room to sleep
++Gladio spoils the heck out of his little brother.
Re: Regis/Clarus - Papa and Daddy
Date: 2017-03-03 03:36 pm (UTC)(I mean, please, other folks feel free to fill as well! This might take me a little while to write)
but ugh Amicitia-Caelum headcanons are my JAM
Re: Regis/Clarus - Papa and Daddy
Date: 2017-03-03 05:19 pm (UTC)Re: Regis/Clarus - Papa and Daddy
Date: 2017-03-03 03:44 pm (UTC)I hope somebody decides to give us more of this wonderful rare ship!
Re: Regis/Clarus - Papa and Daddy
Date: 2017-03-03 03:59 pm (UTC)This.... might be fae
And I might have already written like, 1k words of this
Help I can't escape the dadfic spiral
Re: Regis/Clarus - Papa and Daddy
Date: 2017-03-03 04:04 pm (UTC)Re: Regis/Clarus - Papa and Daddy
Date: 2017-03-03 05:21 pm (UTC)Your fic is legit what inspired this. Like omg. I adored it so much.
Re: Regis/Clarus - Papa and Daddy
Date: 2017-03-03 06:20 pm (UTC)OH GOSH
Re: Regis/Clarus - Papa and Daddy
Date: 2017-03-03 05:28 pm (UTC)Re: Regis/Clarus - Papa and Daddy
Date: 2017-03-03 03:50 pm (UTC)FILL 1/?? AO3 LINK Re: Regis/Clarus - Papa and Daddy
Date: 2017-03-04 02:25 am (UTC)AO3 link here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/10072439/chapters/22443872
Chapter one below:
“Noctis Lucis Caelum, if you don’t come down from there this instant, I will personally ship you off to Niflheim!”
“You can’t do that, Dad!”
King Regis stood barefoot on the grassy lawn of the royal manor, dressed only in a blue silk dressing gown and outrage. His hair was unkempt and curling up at the sides, his eyes were baggy with lack of sleep, and he was glaring up at a small, swaying figure on the roof with the same look he reserved for traitors and enemy ambassadors.
Prince Noctis wrapped his arms around a chimney and tried to look brave. As a skinny twelve-year-old staring down a king with an arsenal of ancient weapons at his disposal, the result looked more pained than defiant, but he was making a solid effort.
At Regis’ side, Gladio lifted a hand to measure the distance between the third floor attics and the roof.
“I could probably climb up there and get him, Dad,” he said. “Just give me ten minutes and some rope, and I can—“
“Gladiolus.” Gladio backed up a step. Clearly, the radius of parental disapproval was wider than he’d initially considered. “I appreciate the thought, but I am not fetching two of my sons down from the roof tonight.”
“I’m not going!” Noct shouted. “You can’t make me!”
“It’s just a stupid ball, Noct!” Gladio’s voice boomed and cracked in the foggy night air. “Ain’t no one's gonna dance with you anyways!”
“Gladiolus!”
“Sorry, Dad.”
“What’s this?” Clarus emerged from the front door, carrying a groggy Iris on his back. He wore an old flannel shirt and boxers, which made Gladio cough into his hands and look away, but Regis didn’t comment. “Boy on the roof again?”
“Soon to be exiled boy,” Regis said. “I’m giving you to the count of three, Noctis! One!”
Clarus hefted Iris up a little as she started to slip down his back, and she wrapped her arms tight around his neck. “You know,” he told Regis. “It was your idea to have children in the first place.”
“Lies and slander, love,” Regis said. He summoned a knife in his hand. “Two!”
“Dad’s gonna warp!” Gladio shouted. Noct backed around the chimney, hiding himself from view.
“You know how it goes, Clarus,” the older man said, in a sing-song voice. “One for me, one for you, one more for good measure.”
“Thin ice, my love.” Regis hefted the knife in his hand with a grimace. “Three!”
Gladio gave a shout of delight as the knife went flying, and Regis disappeared in a flash of blue and white light. He reappeared on the roof, one hand on the hilt as the knife jammed into a windowpane, and Prince Noctis screamed with all the terror of a boy with three years of dishwashing duty in his immediate future.
---
Insomnia, Fourteen Years Prior:
Clarus Amicitia was late.
Regis knew this shouldn’t technically be a cause for concern. Traffic outside of the Citadel was often more than hazardous this early in the morning, though Regis was aware of this through hearsay more than actual experience. His own manor, passed down through his family for the past two centuries, lay just to the side of the Citadel, well within the gates that separated the palace from the rest of the city.
Still, the last time Clarus was late to his duties had been so long ago that the reason was lost, and Regis couldn’t help the twist of vexation in his chest. When the door to his private offices finally opened, he looked up with an almost stern expression.
“My apologies, Your Majesty,” Clarus said, in the stiff, formal voice he always used when he knew he was in for a lecture.
Regis’ expression fell.
“Clarus,” he said, in a tight voice. “There’s a child on your back.”
“Da!” shouted nine-month-old Gladiolus, wriggling in the carrier strapped around Clarus’ shoulders. Clarus sighed.
“Yes, Your Majesty. The daycare was closed, and my mother wouldn’t—“
“I thought you had a nanny?” Regis asked. Gladio was staring at him, quietly gnawing on a moogle toy strapped to the carrier. “That nice girl, the one with the braids?”
“Visiting her mother,” Clarus said. “Regis. It’s a paper-shuffling day, and you know Gladio’s no trouble. Just for today, please.”
Regis looked into his shield’s face, and saw the hard lines of exhaustion there, the baggy grey of sleeplessness. “Certainly,” he said, at last. “Pull up a chair. Hello, Gladio.” Gladio waved, still chewing on the toy, and kicked his feet insistently. Clarus got the point and crouched down, unhitching the carrier, and lifted his son to the floor.
What followed was the most unproductive day in Regis’ memory.
First, he learned that Gladio had mastered the art of the break-neck hobble since Regis had last visited Clarus at home. The boy staggered about the room under Regis and Clarus’ careful watch, gently bouncing off of walls, running into desks and chairs face-first, and stumbling over his own shoes. Every time he fell, Regis braced himself for a scream of pain, but Gladio simply lay there for a moment, grim and thoughtful, before picking himself up and tottering forward again.
Second, he learned that Clarus knew how to sing. Oh, they’d shared one or two horrifying renditions of top forty hits a few years back, when the two of them, Weskham, Cid, and Cor were shipped out to fight the Empire. But that had been a drunken sort of extended shout, not the soft, low baritone that sang of baby whales and dolphins while Gladio spat up most of what Clarus kept trying to spoon into his mouth. Regis stared at his friend for a full five minutes, after, and only a pointedly bewildered look reminded him that he had a lunch of his own to inhale.
Then there was the afternoon storytime incident.
“Sorry, Reg,” Clarus said, when Gladio tugged at Regis’ pant leg for the seventh time. “He wants you to read something.”
Regis glared at his shield and gestured to his desk. “I have a report on crop rotation,” he said, in a dry voice.
“That’ll work,” said Clarus, without looking up. “He just wants to hear your voice for a while.”
Regis lifted Gladio to his lap, glanced at Clarus one more time just to be sure, and flipped open the report to the spot his advisor had bookmarked. “Wheat monocultures,” he said, and Gladio’s eyes widened. “Part A-3, Section Twelve.”
By three o’ clock, it was obvious that neither Gladio nor Clarus were going to last. Gladio was cranky and tired, yelling and babbling in turns, and at one point took up residence under Regis’ chair and whimpered every time he tried to stand. Finally, Regis set down his files with a smack that brought Clarus jerking to attention.
“Let’s end here for the day,” Regis said, and the relief in Clarus’ eyes was palpable. “Clarus, you look ready to expire. You’d tell me if things were… un… well, at home?”
Clarus’ lips twitched. “I’m raising a nine-month-old on my own, Regis,” he said. “I imagine well will happen when he’s twenty-three.”
Regis sighed. “And no news from—“
Clarus’ face might as well have turned to stone. “What do you think?”
Regis bit down a sharp retort. Gladiolus’ mother had given custody to Clarus several months ago, when she’d announced that she had a revelation that Clarus was a overly-principled bore who would never love her as much as you love your gods-curst king! The resulting argument had been disastrous, and lasted for weeks. Regis had insisted on Clarus and Gladio staying with him while the divorce was ratified and their house cleaned out of everything belonging to Gladio’s mother, and that had only confirmed in her mind where Clarus’ loyalties lay.
“I’d expect her to at least inquire after Gladio,” Regis said, as Clarus held the boy against his shoulder. Clarus shrugged.
“I don’t. She was a lovely girl, don’t get me wrong, but…” He sighed. “I think it scared her. This.” He gestured to himself, Gladio, and Regis. “Us.”
“You’re a sensible man,” Regis said, lifting his hand to pet Gladio’s hair. The boy immediately pulled at Regis’ sleeve, gnawing at it. “But you always were a fool for love.”
Clarus paused for a moment, and Regis knit his brows. Had he crossed a line? Clarus was one of Regis’ oldest friends: They’d fought the Empire together, fought each other, stood up to his father when Regis wished to make his engagement to Aulea official. And after Aulea’s accident, when Regis had quietly and methodically fallen into a spiral that none of his aides or advisors could recognize, Clarus was the one who broke down the door of the manor and urged Regis out of bed. As far as he was aware, there should be no more lines to cross.
“I should head home,” he said, reluctantly. “It’s an early morning at the Council tomorrow.”
“Of course,” said Clarus. His expression didn’t change from that odd, almost fearful look, and he gently tugged Regis’ sleeve from Gladiolus’ mouth. “But I have a cup of jasmine tea at the house with your name on it, if you’d like.”
His hand was warm on Regis’ wrist, and something of a fear slipped into the king’s heart as well. There it was: A line he hadn’t recognized before, a barrier between them that was crumbling even as he struggled to see it for what it was. If Regis lingered, if he spent one second longer staring into Clarus’ eyes (grey, almost, like the rush of a storm over the water), he would be overcome.
“I fear I must decline,” he said, and stepped away.
“Da,” Gladio said, imperiously. He slapped his hands on Clarus’ shoulder, but he was looking at Regis.
For the first time in years, all of Regis’ training in diplomacy, social graces, and the expectations of his office failed him. He gave Clarus and Gladiolus a shaky smile, wrenched his hand from his friend’s grasp, and fled.
By the time he finally made it home, he had regained his equilibrium. Regis entered the front hall of the royal manor with his back straight and his mind clear, smiling a farewell to the butler as the man retired for the night. He draped his jacket over a hook on the wall, stepped out of his shoes, and lifted a mug of tea from the tray at the end of the foyer. He carried it up to his study, where he set it five inches to the left of a statue of a small fox. His tie was clipped to a rack in the closet between his study and bedroom, as was his belt. He undressed with perfect efficiency, slipped on a gold dressing gown with white herons embroidered on the sleeves, and sat at his desk with a book. Every now and then, he’d have a sip of his tea.
King Regis sat alone in the warm light of his empty manor, and let the silence consume him.
Re: FILL 1/?? AO3 LINK Re: Regis/Clarus - Papa and Daddy
Date: 2017-03-04 03:19 am (UTC)Also, also, this part: ...stood up to his father when Regis wished to make his engagement to Aulea official. Is very intriguing??? What happened?? Was Aulea a commoner or of bad blood? *chin-hands*
Re: FILL 1/?? AO3 LINK Re: Regis/Clarus - Papa and Daddy
Date: 2017-03-04 03:44 am (UTC)I like the idea of Aulea being a commoner, so I slipped that headcanon in there. I'm planning on expanding on that a little, later.