Prompt Post
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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.
Gen or Prompto/Any, a different kind of slavery AU?
Date: 2017-04-04 01:18 pm (UTC)Slaves are marked with a barcode on their wrist.
Prompto was owned by an Imperial general before escaping at a young age. Sometime just before Prompto is to set out on the trip with the bros, he gets found out via means of anons choice. Regis is heartbroken to be forced to extradite his son's best friend, but has no choice if he wants the upcoming treaty negatiations with the Empire to go well (fat lot of good it did, but I digress...)
Fast forward to Altisha and Prompto is there with his master, who is part of the Imperial occupation. The trial of Leviathan happens an Prompto is...
I'm stopping there. Nobody knows what happens next until a beautiful anon writes it!
Re: Gen or Prompto/Any, a different kind of slavery AU?
Date: 2017-04-04 01:22 pm (UTC)Re: Gen or Prompto/Any, a different kind of slavery AU?
Date: 2017-04-04 01:48 pm (UTC)Re: Gen or Prompto/Any, a different kind of slavery AU?
Date: 2017-04-04 01:56 pm (UTC)Re: Gen or Prompto/Any, a different kind of slavery AU?
Date: 2017-04-04 02:33 pm (UTC)DNWS are explicit gore, if he IS a bed slave or there is any form of sex taking place, no bodily fluids that do not typically belong in sex.
Re: Gen or Prompto/Any, a different kind of slavery AU?
Date: 2017-04-04 03:21 pm (UTC)Re: Gen or Prompto/Any, a different kind of slavery AU?
Date: 2017-04-04 05:10 pm (UTC)Re: Gen or Prompto/Any, a different kind of slavery AU?
Date: 2017-04-04 09:12 pm (UTC)Fill 1/2 Re: Gen or Prompto/Any, a different kind of slavery AU?
Date: 2017-04-05 11:02 am (UTC)That had been when it started. He should have said no when Noct asked him to come on the trip as a member of his Crownsguard. He should’ve stayed in Insomnia, or asked to go as a civilian, or refused the physical—Anything, anything but this.
Instead, he’d cheerily walked into the examination room, explained how the scar on his wrist was pretty gnarly, actually, you really don’t want to see it… and had been ignored. When the physician reached for his wrist anyway, he’d jerked away so quickly that the woman’s eyes narrowed, and she called for a member of the Crownsguard to bar the door.
“I don’t think I can do this,” Prompto had said. “I need to… this isn’t really…” He’d lunged for the other door, but had been caught in a grip too strong to escape, and the band had been lifted, and…
“This is bullshit,” Noct said the day after, as Prompto held his head in both hands in a Crownsguard holding cell. The tattoo that marked him as a slave burned like a brand on his wrist. “You’ve been free for years. This doesn’t change anything.”
It did, though, and Prompto knew it, even if Noct did not. Prompto had been so careful. For over ten years, ever since he hopped onto the back of a produce truck to escape his master in Niflheim and made the long, slow trek to Insomnia, where he knew the general who owned him wouldn’t be allowed to follow, he’d been careful. But his time was up, and relations between Niflheim and Lucis were too strained for King Regis to allow one escaped slave to disrupt the balance.
So here he was, sitting in the transport van, waiting for the rumble of the engine to drag him back to the life he’d cast off so long ago.
His old master was a commander now, they said. Not the high commander, but elevated enough in the ranks that Prompto had been hurriedly briefed by worried Crownsguard officials to please, say nothing of his time spent with the prince.
He wouldn’t, anyways.
When he arrived at last, Prompto knew enough to keep his head lowered as he was jostled out of the van and onto the wide lawn of the commander’s manor. He saw glimpses of people cleaning the wide bay windows and scraping out gutters, but couldn’t tell if they were hired servants or not. Someone pushed at his back and he stumbled, twisting his hands around the bindings at his wrists. As he’d escaped once already, he doubted anyone would bother cutting him loose yet. He followed the guiding hand of the guard at his back, and was led into a side entrance of the manor.
He withered under the stares of the workers in the kitchen. Free people, most of them: There were no barcodes on any of the wrists he could see. Prompto dimly remembered that he’d been given to the general—No, the commander, now—as a gift. From the man’s mother, maybe? He thought he could recall a woman’s face, harsh and twisted, a mask that appeared only in the presence of pain. At the time, he thought the general was a relief to serve. Now, he knew better.
When he was deposited in a wide, well-lit office overlooking the garden, it took him a moment to remember that he was supposed to go to his knees.
“Gods, they’ve ruined you,” said the man at the desk. The commander. Prompto felt tears prick his eyes as polished boots rounded into view. Just two weeks ago, he thought, I was playing video games with Noct. His breath hitched, and the tears came despite himself, hot and silent, warming his cheeks.
“Do you remember me?” the commander asked, and gloved fingers gripped Prompto’s chin, jerking his head up. Prompto looked to the left of the commander’s shoulder, but he could see the slack jaws, the ruddy complexion of a man who spent most of his time outside, the brown hair slicked back. It was like a scene from one of his early nightmares, when Prompto first came to Insomnia as a terrified nine-year-old.
“Yes,” he choked, and saw the twist of a frown. “M-master.”
The commander let go. “It’s a shame,” he said. “You would have been a companion slave by now.” Prompto grit his teeth. He knew what that meant. “I suppose you’ll need to brush up on the basics, now that you’ve learned bad habits abroad. Let’s hope,” he added, with a finality that shuttered all the small lights of freedom in Prompto’s mind, “that you are still a quick study.”
It was the morning of the covenant with the Leviathan, and Prompto was catching a cold.
He knew it was coming the day before, when he’d grown distracted by the lights off the water of Altissia. So romantic, he’d said to Gladio once, when they were looking over pamphlets in preparation for their upcoming trip. Lucky you, Gladio had said. You get to spend it with us. He was smiling at that, remembering the way Noct had laughed, Ignis’ uncharacteristic saucy wink, and didn’t hear the commander request his bag from under Prompto’s seat. At the third, tense demand, the gondolier cleared his throat awkwardly, and Prompto looked up in time to face the full force of a hard, admonishing slap. Something cold struck his jaw, and a flicker of light caught the corner of his eye as the band allowing the commander access to MT-class airships went arcing into the water.
“Damn.” The commander didn’t look angry, but his brows had a crease in them that Prompto was beginning to recognize. “Prompto, fetch.”
“It’s alright, sir, I can probably hook it—“ the gondolier said, but Prompto was already gone, diving into the murky depths.
He’d found the band, but it was too late for them to go back to the hotel to change. So Prompto had spent the rest of the day shivering and squeaking in his sodden clothes. It earned him a pitying look and a glass of water from the man at the bar, who didn’t seem to follow the unspoken rule not to interfere with another person’s slave. Prompto downed it quickly when the commander’s back was turned, and when he handed the glass back, the man placed his large hand over Prompto’s, a small comfort. It was the first time in months that anyone had touched him for something more than guidance or punishment, and Prompto felt like his hand burned with it.
Stuck the next day in the midmorning drizzle before the Oracle’s meeting with the sea Astral, Prompto held out an umbrella for the commander and tried not to cough. Water was sluicing off the edge and pouring down his back, but he didn’t dare move closer. Instead, he let his gaze wander to the far off altar, obscured by the rush of civilians fleeing to higher ground. If the Oracle was there, then that meant Noct was there. It was all anyone could talk about for the past week. Prompto gripped the umbrella handle so hard that he could feel his bones grinding together.
“Which is why it may be best if we all took my ship back to the mainland,” one of the commander’s companions was saying. He was a broad-shouldered man with dark reddish-purple hair and a silk hat, an accent that definitely didn’t come from Niflheim, and a seriously terrible taste in clothes. Of course, Prompto couldn’t talk: He was stuck wearing the simple white and grey sleeveless outfit of a slave, designed so there’d be no chance of hiding the barcode on his wrist. He hated it. He wish he were with Noct and the others, wearing Crownsguard black, facing the Leviathan with the Oracle.
The commander made a disapproving sound, and Prompto jerked around to see that he was holding up the group. The man in the silk hat winked at him, but the white-haired man who walked a few paces ahead ignored him completely. Prompto was getting used to that, now.
“I apologize,” the commander said. “My slave is a newly reclaimed runaway, I’m afraid. Terrible waste. He was so obedient before…”
Prompto felt the other man’s gaze on him, and turned his flushed face aside, watching the altar as they walked.
“Really? For how long?”
“Eleven years, about.”
“That’s rare, these days.” The man sounded deeply amused. “He must have quite the skill for subterfuge.”
The commander scoffed, and Prompto stood back to collapse the umbrella as they began to file into a waiting aircraft. He was just fastening it closed when he heard a screech, a crash of water, and the thunder of falling stone. Prompto stared out at the altar and saw the Leviathan arching up into the air, obscuring what was left of the sun. A dark figure warped towards it, and Prompto dropped the umbrella with a thud.
“Noct!” He didn’t mean to say it, but it was out, and he was lurching forward as though he could leap across the canals and be at his friends’ sides in a heartbeat. Then a large hand wrapped around his forearm, and he turned to see the man in the hat, smiling down on him with a wicked gleam in his eyes.
“Noct?” he asked Prompto. “What a curious thing. I came across a gentleman of that name not even a week ago.”
Fill 2/2 Re: Gen or Prompto/Any, a different kind of slavery AU?
Date: 2017-04-05 11:12 am (UTC)“Were they… okay?” Prompto asked. The man smiled.
“In the pink.”
But they weren’t now. Prompto looked back to the Leviathan, roaring her fury into the cloudy sky, and swallowed thickly. The man beside him chuckled.
“Don’t worry, my boy,” he said. “I assure you, you’ll be getting a bird’s eye view of the proceedings in short order.”
But not before the commander had his say. For the first time since Prompto’s first few weeks after his recapture, the commander was furious. Prompto hit the floor at the first blow, making the white-haired man turn around with a cry of protest. He got to his knees, only to be rocked back the other direction. His ears rang, his cheeks burned, and he could taste copper on his tongue.
“Months since you’ve been returned to me,” the commander said, “and you wait ‘til now to reveal you knew the prince?”
“King,” Prompto muttered, and the white-haired man made another cut-off sound. Prompto was too numb to feel the next strike, but he did feel the cool touch of metal on his face, and closed his eyes to it for one blissful second before he was dragged up by the hair.
“Is this why they sent you back to me?” The commander’s face eclipsed all else in Prompto’s vision. “As a spy?”
Prompto blinked, and was shaken roughly. “No, Master.”
The commander let go of him, letting him fall to his side. “I should sell you after all. To an auction house in the capital, perhaps.” Prompto blanched. Auctions were a waking nightmare.
“I can take him, if you’re serious about this,” the white-haired man said. The commander paused in his relentless pacing of the ship.
“You never take slaves, Lord Ravus.”
The white-haired man—Lord Ravus—flashed Prompto a look that, if he dared to expect it in anyone these days, was almost laced with concern, before pulling the commander aside for a quiet word. Prompto coughed into his elbow and winced at the burn in his lungs. Definitely coming down with something.
Heavy boots settled down in front of him. Prompto looked up into the face of the man in the hat, and saw a cheery smile there, cold and heartless as a snake.
“Would you like to see your dear friend the king?” he asked, in a low voice. Prompto glanced around, and saw that Lord Ravus had ushered the commander into a room off the side of the ship. “I’m touching down for but a moment, but if you direct your vision to the bay doors…”
Prompto forced himself to rise, turning to the doors of the ship. They slowly opened in a rush of wind and rain, and Prompto caught his breath at what awaited them. They were only a few yards from the altar of the Leviathan, where Lunafreya Nox Fleuret, the Oracle, clung to her trident and watched the small shape of Noctis Lucis Caelum battle the Leviathan on his own.
“Do let them know that I’ll be returning forthwith,” the man ordered, and jumped down from the doors, striding towards the Oracle. Prompto barely registered the order. From where he stood on the ship, he could see the man’s hand twitching towards the knife at his belt even as he gestured to Lunafreya in greeting. Luna raised her hands to him, a warm glow emanating from her fingers.
Prompto didn’t hear it, but he felt rage boil in his stomach at the sight of Luna being struck. His own cheeks still burned, and the rain was a cool blessing on his face as he stepped to the edge of the ship doors.
The man’s fingers closed around the hilt of the knife, and Prompto leapt.
He misjudged his jump and skidded on the wet stone of the altar, barreling into the Oracle as the knife tried to strike home. The blade slid messily against Prompto’s right arm instead, and he grabbed Luna around the middle even as he began to lose purchase against the stone. The man above them watched with no amount of surprise and mingled amusement as the waves sucked at Prompto and Luna’s clothes, dragging them under for a terrifying, gasping second.
“Not how I would have done it,” he said, “but nevertheless effective. Commander!” he shouted, climbing back onto the ship as Prompto and Luna’s hands slipped free of the altar. “I’m afraid I may have disposed of your slave for you.”
“We’ll be okay,” Prompto said to Luna, as they were swept into a pillar. He clung to it with his free hand, and Luna’s fingers twined around his. “I promise.”
The airship rose out of the way of the Leviathan’s writhing body, and Prompto felt icy dread sink into his heart. If he was caught again—When he was caught again—He knew the commander would not be merciful. It would be better to die here, to go under…
“No,” Luna said, tightening her grip. Prompto hadn’t even realized his hand was going slack. “We’ll both make it.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Prompto whispered, and a wave rolled over them, dragging their hands loose from the pillar.
Prompto woke surrounded by softness. For a moment, he wondered if he had died, but his chest ached, he could feel a round of sneezes building in his throat, and he doubted anyone could bring a cold into the afterlife. He rolled over to sneeze off the side of the… the bed? Why was he in a bed?
“Hey, you’re up.” A deep voice. Someone he knew, or should know. Not the commander, but… Prompto struggled to get out of the bed he was definitely not supposed to be in, but before he could sink to the floor, large hands gripped him and eased him back.
“Careful,” said Gladiolus Amicitia. “Don’t want to hurt something, sunshine.”
Prompto stared up into warm amber eyes, and burst into hacking, sniveling tears.
“Shit!” There was a dip in the bed, and warm arms around his shoulders, and gods, Prompto must have been dead after all, because this was just like every daydream he’d tried to hold on to in the past few months since his recapture.
“Hey,” Gladio said, rocking him gently. “Hey, we got you, Prom.”
“Not for long,” Prompto managed. “I have to. Have to get back, before they…”
“Get back?” Gladio asked. Prompto shuddered at the rage in his voice, and Gladio took a breath before speaking again. “What the hell makes you think you’re going back?”
“I made it eleven years last time,” Prompto said, “and it didn’t make a difference.”
There was a long, horrible silence. “Is… is Luna okay? Noct? Iggy?”
“Yeah,” Gladio said. “They’re in the other rooms. We were lucky with Iggy—if he’d been assigned to watch the other gate instead of the main one with me, he would’ve been caught up in that blast when one of the MT ships crashed.”
“A crash?” Prompto asked. “It wasn’t—“
“Just MTs inside, Prom, sorry.” A packet of tissues appeared in Prompto’s line of sight, and he took them gratefully, digging into the plastic.
“Gods,” he said. “I haven’t even had a tissue in months,” he said, and felt Gladio’s arms stiffen.
“Come on,” he said. “Let’s go see the king, if you’re up for it. He’s been asking about you for hours.”
Prompto wasn’t up for it, but he was used to pushing himself by now. He stumbled out of bed with Gladio’s help, and yelped at the sight of long sleeves and a leather band obscuring the tattoo on his wrist.
“Gladio,” he said, in a panic. “I can’t be caught wearing this—“
“You won’t be.” Gladio sounded too gentle, like Prompto was a small child. “I told you, sunshine. It’s not gonna be like last time.”
Noct, when he was done holding onto Prompto like his life depended on it, said much the same thing.
“I’m the king now, right?” he asked, as Ignis dragged Prompto in what had to be the only bear hug he’d ever seen the advisor give. “Well, as far as I’m concerned, you’re officially a crown citizen. Niflheim can fuck itself.”
Prompto laughed wetly at this, and then started coughing, and sneezing, and doubling over with the ache in his chest. Ignis ran to procure something from the kitchens. Gladio fumbled for a potion, and Lunafreya stood from her chair to offer a touch of healing magic that eased the worst of the pain. Noct climbed over the bed he was in to check Prompto’s forehead, and by the end of the afternoon, Prompto was surrounded by warmth and food and comfort, sinking into the safety of his friends’ laughter and touch like a true, waking dream.
Re: Fill 2/2 Re: Gen or Prompto/Any, a different kind of slavery AU?
Date: 2017-04-05 11:40 am (UTC)Re: Fill 2/2 Re: Gen or Prompto/Any, a different kind of slavery AU?
Date: 2017-04-05 11:50 am (UTC)There, there! There, there! He's fine now, and nothing terrible will ever happen to him again. Probably. >.>
I'm glad you liked this though! Even with the tears.
Re: Fill 2/2 Re: Gen or Prompto/Any, a different kind of slavery AU?
Date: 2017-04-05 03:58 pm (UTC)And Prompto saved LUNA!!!! OMG, and because of their different placements due to being short one party member, Ignis wasn't at the crash site meaning he's NOT BLIND!!! You managed to make an AU where Luna lives and Iggy keeps his eyesight make sense and I love you for it! And I know future events will play out differently now, bc Noctis won't be suffering from depression for the rest of the trip and Ignis didn't loose his sight, we won't have the enormous tension on the train that lead to the group splitting up that lead to Prompto getting captured, and all That tension that will no longer exist won't lead to the bros going their separate ways during WoR, IF that even happens bc Luna survived and...
Okay, I need to stop there and just say thank you for existing, authornon.
Re: Fill 2/2 Re: Gen or Prompto/Any, a different kind of slavery AU?
Date: 2017-04-05 04:38 pm (UTC)Awwww thank you!
I tried to figure how things would change with Prompto not being in the main group/being elsewhere at the time of the covenant, and I'm glad you liked how it ended up! (And any excuse to save Luna is a good one in my book!)
Re: Fill 2/2 Re: Gen or Prompto/Any, a different kind of slavery AU?
Date: 2017-04-05 09:07 pm (UTC)Re: Fill 2/2 Re: Gen or Prompto/Any, a different kind of slavery AU?
Date: 2017-05-08 11:22 pm (UTC)Re: Fill 2/2 Re: Gen or Prompto/Any, a different kind of slavery AU?
Date: 2017-07-07 09:46 pm (UTC)Re: Fill 1/2 Re: Gen or Prompto/Any, a different kind of slavery AU?
Date: 2017-04-05 11:24 am (UTC)