Prompt Post

[ffxv_kinkmod]

 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. 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.

Comments

Re: Fill: Courting Disaster 3b/?

[(Anonymous)]

Before this whenever Noctis had talked about the Citadel Training halls he’d pictured a gym, albeit a much nicer gym than the ones he’d joined before. He’d imagined a nearly endless assortment of treadmills, exercise machines, and weight stations all of them state of the art and sturdy enough to handle an army’s worth of usage. He’d pictured people constantly moving back and forth surrounded by an air of camaraderie and friendly scents. Looking around he felt a bit disappointed that the legendary training room where Noctis had knocked out a tooth running into a wall didn’t resemble a gym in the slightest.

The training hall looked more like an empty room where someone had said, ‘we’re not using this but since we have all this empty space we should let people fight in here’. The only equipment in the room was a weapons rack that sat against the wall, filled in an almost artistic way with almost every kind of weapon he could think of save heavy gear and guns. There was no one else there and that was almost relieving because while the room was big it would have been one of the smallest gyms he’d seen since he’d started making enough money to move into the nice one by Noctis’ apartment. It didn’t even have that stale sweat and pheromone smell that lingered in every gym he’d ever entered in his life either. It smells like lemon cleaner, the nice kind that’s designed to kill scent markers without leaving a strong scent behind.

Noctis nuzzles up against him drawing him out of his thoughts and back into the real world. He lets the scent of oranges and spice watch over him as he takes in the way Gladio inspects a sword that looks like it was designed more for decoration than actual use by the weapons rack. His stomach dips as Gladio lifts it up and rests the flat side against his shoulder like it was made of balsa wood instead of what must be solid steel. He’d thought it was too big to be of any real use in a fight but the smug grin on Gladio’s face says otherwise. It’s huge almost as big as Gladio is and just as intimidating. It’s the kind of weapon that a video game character would only be able to use after level fifty if they were already strong to begin with. it looks like it could kill him if it tipped over and the sharp side hit him, like his bones wouldn’t even slow it down.

"Prompto since you're new to this I'm going to let you observe first and after I kick Noct’s ass I'll take you through a few practice fights to get an idea of where you're at and where we need to focus. You’ll switch off with Noctis after every round so take the opportunity to pay attention to how he fights. You’ve got a similar body structure so his fighting style will be of more benefit to you than mine. If you suck, which you will, don't worry about it you're here to learn. After I kick your ass don’t be too hard on yourself." Gladio says as by some miracle he manages to sound like he’s not lugging around a sword that is honestly too big to be used as a sword without something supernatural going on.

Prompto somehow manages to tear his eyes away from the ginormous sword of doom and death for long enough to look him in the face, his voice wavering and unsteady. "Yeah sounds good."

“You ready Noct?” Gladio’s voice rings with smug challenge as he saunters out onto the middle of the training room floor.

“As I’ll ever be.” Noctis says after a breathy sigh sounding more bored than anyone about to fight someone with that sword should be. He nuzzles up against Prompto again before walking out to meet Gladio in the middle of the hall, the look on his face almost serene in spite of the playful smirk that dances on the edge of his lips.

He's heard Noctis complain about training hundreds of times before, but it had always been the kind of complaining that's more for show than anything, the kind that says secretly I love this but my pride won't let me admit it so I'm going to lie through my teeth and say that it sucks. Watching him walk out onto the training room floor sword shimmering into existence in his fist however it's easy to tell that he's pleased as a fish in water.

Noctis throws his sword at Gladio and slips through the air like a fish through water, his body disappearing into swaths of blue light that streaks through the space between them like a bolt of lightning. He reappears in midair amongst a rain of crystal dust his hand curled around the blade he'd thrown with a lazy sort of ease. He launches into an attack using the momentum he got from warping bringing his sword down on Gladio like a guillotine. Somehow even with a sword the size of a fully-grown man weighing him down and muscles that the Archaean himself would be proud of Gladio is just fast enough to block him.

The clang rings through the training room like a gong signaling that playtime is over. Noctis' blade slides across Gladio's with the high scraping sound of metal against metal and Prompto has to clench his teeth to convince himself that he can't feel it. Noctis' body glows blue as he backs away from Gladio dodging the fist that should have swept him off of his feet in the space of a blink. He swings again and Noctis' body flashes with light as he steps out of the path of the blade ducking beneath it.

Gladio smirks viciously as a wave of toasted marshmallow and dark chocolate hits him like he's just run into a wall of it. He has to breathe through his mouth and the scent still sends shockwaves through his gut and fireworks down his limbs as it makes his brain feel like it's been wrapped in a heavy layer of cotton as his thoughts dive straight into the gutter. Those thoughts aren't helped by the way Gladio's shirt clings to his body his skin shining with sweat. He winces in sympathy as his eyes dart to Noctis, the alpha has to be feeling it so much more than he is, and takes in the sudden stillness as Noctis' heaving chest becomes the only part of him that isn't frozen in place.

A growl travels through the air and rakes claws down Prompto's back, the hairs on his neck standing at attention. He swallows his mouth suddenly dry eyes wide as he takes in the tension in Noctis' body, the way every part of him seems like it's pulled tight ready to snap like a rubber band pulled to send it flying across a room. His knuckles turn white as his grip tightens around the hilt of his sword and the atmosphere of the room suddenly grows thick like the air before a thunderstorm. Oranges and spice mingle with Gladio's scent in a way that burns through his nose. He feels like he's been glued to the seat, he can't move, can’t even breathe in spite of the feeling screaming that he needs to be closer.

Noctis' body vanishes into a warp as he flings his sword into the pillar behind Gladio. He hangs from it when he reappears his chest heaving as his body swings back and forth in the air above them. Only the hilt of his sword stands between him and a very unpleasant meeting with the floor, which is stone. Prompto's head reels at the sight the only thought going through his mind is why is the training room floor stone and not springy matts or something that isn't going to make the crown prince go splat if he slips.

Noctis suddenly launches himself from the pillar vanishing into a blue blur hitting Gladio in a shimmer of magic, the omega stumbles forward with a grunt his body turning so that he twists out of the reach of Noctis' sword. They exchange blows that miss by millimeters, Noctis' body glowing blue more often than it isn't. Noctis suddenly stumbles with a pained wince on his face as his hand reaches up to clutch at the side of his head.

Gladio's eyes flash as his sword swings at Noctis the blade flashing blue as it seems to slide through Noctis like an oar through water, the blow knocks Noctis to the ground his hands flying to his chest. There’s no wound, no blood or gore, nothing but a residual blue glow where the killing blow should have been. He sits up and lifts his neck as Gladio brings his sword down to rest beneath his chin his eyes flashing even as his body submits in defeat. "You can't let a pretty scent take your mind out of a fight, but you held out pretty well, good job. Take a short break and be ready to go again in a few."

Gladio reaches down and grabs Noctis' arm pulling him up onto his feet with a grin. Their scents start to fade from the room as the aggression fades, slowly overpowered by calming tea and smoke, and the vise that kept Prompto's breath trapped in his lungs finally releases.

"Okay Blondie now it's your turn." Gladio's teeth pulled back from his lips in a sharp smile, grinning at Prompto like a cat grins at a bird with a broken wing. For years to come that smile is going to haunt his nightmares, or his dreams, probably both. His smile seemed to sharpen somehow and Prompto swallowed trying to dispel the sudden tightness in his throat, it would be both, definitely both. His little birdie heart was frozen in his chest, the ice creeping outward until Gladio's hand lands on his shoulder with enough strength to make his lungs jump in his chest.

"Okay." He croaks as he's led by the strong arm on his shoulder over to the weapons rack.

Gladio peruses the selection for a moment and Prompto looks at the rack with a mix of awe and fear. There are no guns, no bows, no crossbows, in short there is nothing that specializes in long range combat, it's just a collection of bladed weapons and a couple of staffs, all so pristine they look like they're only touched to be polished. Some of the swords are made from wood or bamboo, most are metal their sharp blades polished to a blinding shine. He swallows nervously his blood running cold as his mind betrays him with snippets of his nightmares. His mind overflows with visions of gleaming blades, of grit between his fingers, of sharp burning pain, and the scent of oil and sanitizer and blood.

"Eventually you'll find something to specialize in but for now we'll start with a standard training blade. It's blunted but you will treat this like a real weapon, I'm sure you're mature enough that you will not play around with this blade like a toy." Gladio's voice draws him from the shadows as he holds a weapon out to him, a short sword made of wood and polished to a glowing shine.

Prompto nods and takes the blade, turning it over trying to ignore the way it sits like a brick in his hand. He should have something shorter, the thought flickers into his head and vanishes before he can pin it down. Gladio's hands are giant as they cover his own, his fingers nudging Prompto's into a proper grip. He speaks instructing him on how to hold his new sword and what to do but it's like listening to white noise, none of the words make any more sense than crackling static buzzing in his ears, it's like listening to a math lesson spoken out loud without any notes to help translate it. Gladio releases his hands apparently content with his corrections for the moment and steps away from him his giant sword dissolving into a training blade that is just as big as the last one but seems to be made of the same wood as the training blade he’d pressed into his hands.

Prompto holds up the blade in a pale imitation of Noctis' stance, his legs feel too far apart and they want to shift closer together, they know in the same way his hands seem to know whenever he picks up the arcade guns. They know how to bend, where to shift, that this stance is wrong in almost every way but he stays stubbornly still. Shadows unfurl inside him, ice cold with fingers stretching toward his heart like the bare branches of dead trees in winter. He swallows down the protest that wants to rise up in his throat and lets the ‘I cant’s’ and ‘please don’ts’ linger in his ribcage. He’s not ready for more than this right now and his hands ache for the more comforting weight of his camera or the plastic guns from the arcade something familiar and safe.

Gladio raises his sword cutting through the air and blurring his vision until it's not Gladio who rushes toward him with an impassive look on his face. It's not Gladio that swings at him that first time, his eyes are filled with the dull shine of metal and burning red. He doesn't even register when the flat of Gladio's blade catches him in the center of his chest, forcing the air from his lungs in an involuntary gasp, until after he hits the floor knees first. His sword lands too far in front of him to reach before Gladio lands the killing blow, his sword swinging to tap gently at his temple resting there as the older man looks down at him.

"You're distracted, get your head out of your ass and into the fight or you're going to keep getting your ass handed to you." Gladio’s voice is strangely gentle as he reaches down and grabs his sword from where it rests on the ground before tossing it to him one handed with ease.

He swallows against the tension in his throat and reaches out to catch the blade. His fingers tremble and the grip slips through his sweat slick hands hitting the floor with a sharp thud. "Sorry!"

"You can calm down this is just a spar, we're just going to work on avoidance for now, all you have to do is make sure you don't get hit. Now dry off your hands and we'll try this again." Gladio’s voice settles over him like a blanket chasing the chill from his bones.

“Okay, just take it easy on me big guy.” He manages a nervous smile hoping to give off an air of harmlessness.

“Yeah that’s not gonna happen.” Gladio says before charging at him like a behemoth after the scent of fresh blood.

He flings up his sword just in time to have Gladio’s blade crash against it and relief floods him as Gladio grins down at him instead of the blurry metal thing that had taken his place earlier. Gladio’s feral grin renders his eyes a burning gold that send a shiver of terror straight down his side. “Now that’s more like it, but can you keep it up, or was that just beginner’s luck.”

He manages something that feels like a smile his arms shaking under the pressure of both Gladio and his giant blade bearing down on him. His heart stops as his grip slips and Gladio’s sword passes straight through him fire burning through flesh and bone in an inferno that should be painful but isn’t. His mind is a blank screen as he hits the floor the jolt booting it into life as it starts to scream the words ‘oh god’s’, ‘I’m dying’, ‘I’m dead’, over and over until the lack of pain and the sight of Gladio looking like he’s trying to hold back laughter registers. He glares at the other man as the painless fire dies down as quickly as it hit into a warmth that’s almost pleasant. “It’s beginner’s luck .”

Re: Fill: Courting Disaster 3c/?

[(Anonymous)]

"I think Gladio is seriously trying to kill me. My legs don't even feel like legs anymore and the bones in my arms are vibrating! I really don't think swords are for me." Prompto knelt on the floor hands on his kneecaps as he struggled to take in rattling breaths of air holding himself up by pure force of will.

"No, I don't think they are, you spent half the time running like you were being chased around by a mad behemoth." Noctis pushed himself up on his elbows just to smirk at him before he collapsed back down to lie prone his arms folded behind his head to form a pillow.

"You mean I wasn't?" He gasps heaving like a fish thrown onto a dock unable to breathe.

"Save your breath, I won't be taking it easy on you anymore next time." Gladio walked past them his breaths calm and even, practically purring as he smirked.

Prompto narrowed his eyes in jealousy taking in the way his chest barely moved and the thin sheen of sweat that left him looking sexy instead of hanging at deaths door like he did, before the words Gladio said processed in his mind and became something more than an unintelligible jumble of sounds. "Next time! Noct please you have to put me out of my misery! I want my inevitable death to be quick and painless."

Prompto fell dramatically to his knees and collapsed onto his back. He thumped his chest with his fist, carefully to avoid any developing bruises and threw his arms out over his head so he was splayed out like a starfish. "Make it quick for me Noctis right through the heart!"

Noctis sighed as he picked himself up just so Prompto could see him rolling his eyes. "No can do Prompto, you're just going to have to suffer with the rest of us."

"Traitor!" He hisses halfheartedly, unable to keep up with his chest feeling like everything inside it has been spilled across the floor.

"You'll live."

Re: Fill: Courting Disaster 3c/?

[(Anonymous)]

The familiarity of Noctis’ apartment settles over him like a well-loved jacket, safe and comfortable. He collapses back on the couch his entire body aching like he'd thrown himself down a rocky hill. The long hot shower he'd taken was enough to soothe away most of the ache in his muscles, but some of it is persistent lingering under his skin with a promise that he'd be feeling it even worse in the morning. He rubbed at the soreness on his shoulders and tried to relax, maybe even get a nap in. Too much had happened and even though his body was thoroughly worn out and ready for a quick catnap his mind was still wide awake and mulling over everything that had happened.

The arch still stood on the table, a monument to the impossible suddenly becoming possible, and it gleams in the light from the windows sending streams of color out across the apartment from where the light hits the foil. He stares at it as droplets of water drip down from his hair into his shirt soaking through the fabric. He picks at the worn edges of his wristband a loose thread unraveling between the pads of his fingers. Noctis likes him, like really likes him and under normal circumstances that would be more than enough to floor him. It’s more than he’s ever been able to bring himself to wish for.

The bathroom door swings open sending a wave of wet heat out to flood the room. His breath turned to lead in his lungs as Noctis closes in on him, shirtless and dripping wet, as soon as the door shuts behind him. He's caged in, trapped by a weight in his chest that might as well be a black hole for how it sucks him in as Noctis leans over him and straddles him. He leans in so closely that both of their senses are overwhelmed by the blue of each other’s eyes and their scents intermingling with clean skin and the scent of Noctis’ expensive soap. His body is still damp from the shower, water dripping from his hair landing with little splashes on his skin and sinking into his borrowed shirt.

Prompto's heart jumps and runs inside his chest, a startled chocobo pursued by a predator as Noctis bares gleaming teeth in a smile that sends heat and ice to war in the depths of his belly. Part of him wants to push Noctis off of him, not to get away, but because he knows that if he were to run now he wouldn’t get away, Noctis would chase after him and the throb of want that goes through him is almost painful. He can’t move though; his arms are like ice frozen under the gentle press of Noctis’ hands as the alpha leans in moving agonizingly slow seeming trapped in time. He’s frozen until Noctis reaches nestles his head up against the side of Prompto's neck presses his nose up against the tender skin beneath his jaw and breaths in deep, his entire body shuddering.

Prompto's lips part in a soundless oh as the lightbulb in his brain turns on, the sudden realization of what Noctis is doing sends and embarrassed flush down his cheeks. He tilts his head to the side giving Noctis room to press up closer against him. The warm snuffling breaths and wet brush of fine hair against the sensitive skin of his throat sending sparks crackling down his spine like spider web cracks in glass. The birds returned to his chest as Noctis ran his hands down his arms spreading his fingers across his skin. The familiarity of the motions does little to calm the flush painting itself across his cheeks and creeping down his neck.

His mind blanked every sound, every sensation, every thought that isn't Noctis crumbles to ash at the wet heat that bloomed over his skin and the sharp sting in his neck as Noctis bit at his collar. His stomach tightened as his mouth parted in a soundless gasp as softness and heat soothed over the pain only to follow it up with another sting. His blood turned to fizz, light and bubbly, as the familiar motions of scenting were abandoned, Noctis' hands sliding under his shirt exploring his stomach with rough unrelenting pressure as he bit his way across his neck with alpha sharp teeth sending jolts of pain and pleasure sparking behind his closed eyes. Prompto's mouth went on without him, parting in broken cries of Noctis' name, little gasps, and drawn out moans that stole what little breath he could remember to breathe in.

Noctis' hands slipped out from under his shirt and over the planes of his shoulders gripping them like he could fall apart the second he let go. He pulled away from Prompto's neck lips shining swollen and slick, eyes blown wide and wanting sending lava crawling through Prompto's veins in unbearable heat. He was burning alive, not that he could say he really minded that, not when he couldn’t think past the growing haze in his mind. They surged together magnetically charged, arms and legs scrambling for purchase as chapped bitten lips met lips that were softer, less abused.

Kissing him was like that time he'd accidentally run into an electric fence on a school trip. He could feel that jolt that went through him, the almost painful but mostly thrilling thumping of his heart as tingling spread through his body from his lips down through to his chest and lower. Heat pooled in his stomach filling it like a cup and spilling over into his veins. Noctis tasted like magic, like he'd found a way to kiss light and life itself, and he wanted to drown in the sensation.

There's an innocent sort of viciousness to their kisses, a careless hunger that cries more, more, more as they press closer together. Their teeth find each other’s lips biting and pulling, coaxing moans and gasps out of each other the sounds and cries muffled by the press of their mouths swallowed up by each other. Their fingers tangle up in each other’s hair tugging mewling, desperately trying to get closer.

Noctis' hands release his shoulders and slide down his arms to stop at his wrists. His thumb slips beneath the wristband to press both thumbs into the skin of his wrists. Prompto gasps into his mouth and flinches away, the feeling of someone else touching his wrist sending a wave of wrongness crashing over him, the Iron Giants reforming in an instant like night had fallen again. His fingers tug at his wristband turning and pulling at it until it sits smoothly in the grooves it's made for itself on his wrist. He feels cold like the lava has frozen over and now there's stone in his veins jagged and cracked.

Noctis pulls away his flushed face quickly turning white as freshly fallen snow before the flush returns with a sudden vengeance. "My hand slipped!"

"Dude really?"

Re: Fill: Courting Disaster 3d/?

[(Anonymous)]

Oops sorry the above should read 3d

Re: Fill: Courting Disaster 3c/?

[(Anonymous)]

NICE *_*

Re: Fill: Courting Disaster 3c/?

[(Anonymous)]

Thank you.