ffxv_kinkmeme | Prompt Post Round Five

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Prompt Post Round Five

Welcome to Round Five of the FFXV Kink Meme!

Closed for prompts | OPEN for fills

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New Prompts are Closed for this round. Please wait until 11/13/2017 for Round Six.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Bad guy(s) capture the group and have them overpowered. They have their eyes on Noct, but the other three offer themselves instead -- Gladio is the king's shield and he's sturdy enough to take it; Prompto because he loves Noct more than he loves himself; and Ignis because this is an act of service to his king he can still perform despite his relative "uselessness" in battle.

The trade is accepted and the bad guy(s) proceed to thoroughly wreck the offered sacrifice in front of his (crying, furious, helpless) friends.

+ observer Chocobro POV
+ bad guy(s) can be Ardyn if you'd like, although I think OMCs would fit better
+ the one being assaulted comes involuntarily at least once
+ DP, spitroast, ATM is 💯💯 (no actual scat, though)
+ aftercare/medical attention, Chocobros plotting revenge (even carrying it out), dealing with guilt and shame and horror and not knowing how to help their friend
+ tbh I wrote this prompt with Ignis in mind, but it's really up to the filler!

Yes, please.

Hello! Did some searching and I didn't see any prompts on the Pinboard matching your descriptions all that well.
So, I hopped over to AO3 and searched for: Lestallum noctis/Page 3
Link - http://archiveofourown.org/works/search?page=3&utf8=%E2%9C%93&work_search%5Bquery%5D=Lestallum+noctis
=
Not as Bad as it Could have Been
Sanru
Link - http://archiveofourown.org/works/10852050/chapters/24095892

Hope this will be of some help! ;)

*nods* Sweatpants dick is the best dick, +1000

Notes: This work contains allusions to depression/PTSD, mentions of past canonical experimentation on children, and a little body horror. Also temporary off-screen character death.

The Orphanage takes the babe and his fabricated papers without question all for the low, low price of 300,000 gil. I pay it. A small price, to see him cared for. All such establishments in Insomnia are filled to bursting these days. Have been for years. I was lucky to find this one that didn’t look too closely at the documents that cost far more than the bribe to have him accepted here.

With any luck, the boy will be adopted before I return.

Refugee doctors I paid as much for silence as care maintain there will be no lasting effects of—whatever happened to him that made him so small and so silent and so scared. I’m sure he was brought from Gralea’s labs, but I can’t be sure, given that I never saw the inside of the labs.

I had intended to break into Gralea’s labs. The shadowy, secret labs that Intelligence said housed the MT project. It had been our first opening ever—but before I could find a way inside, a harried-looking woman with dark circles under her eyes, a sallow complexion, and ill-fitting researcher’s garb had approached my hiding place. In Niff-accented Accordian, she’d said, “Take It. Please, please get It out of here. Before they find It’s missing.” And she had shoved a bundle at me before I could stop her. Shocked that a civilian could have found me so easily. I looked down at the cocoon of blankets in my arms.

It had turned out to be a human child.

Tiny blue eyes had blinked up at me, mouth open in surprise. Fear twisting his face. The researcher had disappeared before I could get another word in. Run off from the Labs as fast as she could. I stared down at the child.

Given the choice between one child and the answer to the question that might end the War, I never once considered that I would make the wrong choice.

Yet here we are.

The boy’s watery blue eyes peer up at me as I hand him to the man. He hasn’t cried once since I acquired him, even when we had to dodge sniper fire to cross the border. He hasn’t cried, but his eyes are wet as he watches me prepare to leave. I suppose we have spent every waking hour together for months now. He probably understands little of what has happened or is happening now.

I smooth out that tuft of blond one last time. My hand is trembling like an unblooded youth’s. “Please call me if something comes up.”

“You’re sure you want to give him up?” asks the worn man dutifully, holding the gil and the child with equal care. Can’t blame him, given the number of unwanted children in this city.

Give him up. It pricks into me like small needles. He isn’t mine to give up. I just happened to save him from Gralea.Though we’ve traveled two months together, I’ve no claim on the boy.

I swallow, surprised at the sudden tightness in my throat. The child stares at me and doesn’t cry. It’s to him I say:

“Yes. It must be this way.”

My return to Insomnia a month later is utterly without fanfare: The King is grayer. The Prince is fussier. The Shield is balder.

I stop by my apartment for a change of clothes before I make for the Citadel. My paperwork won’t fill itself out. I’ll sleep when I’m dead, as the saying goes.

Hours pass under the cheery Citadel lights as I seek the words to explain the defenses constructed in the last month. Without explaining why the sudden increase in security. The Crown can’t know what I have paid, and not for a matter simple as pride.

Were I to tell them about the child, he would replace Gralea’s labs for Insomnia’s. They would test and test to find the answer I went to Gralea seeking.

The Crown cannot know why the borders have tightened even as far out as Tenebrae. The knowledge held in the labs is that vital, that Gralea would spend so much to protect it. I wasted our shot on sentiment.

The kid had looked up at me with those bright blue eyes. His expression had been twisted with resignation, until he had sighted the vast expanse of sky behind me and his mouth had dropped open in shock and wonder—I couldn’t toss him away, even if I didn’t know the strange woman’s intentions.

I had clutched him tight to my chest and run.

Back in Insomnia, I cannot even tell the King of my failure. Perhaps the Insomnian scientists would have a gentler touch, but with the current public sentiment against all things Niff—no. I can’t risk it.

I have to believe we’re better than the Niffs, or what am I fighting for? What have I been fighting for all this time? (But I’m cynical enough to not trust that we are. I’ll simply close my eyes, and never put myself in a position to test whether we are, in fact, better than the enemy.)

My pen stalls on the page, and I scrub at my drooping eyes. A bed sounds heavenly, but I know whose face will await me—No. Not yet. I can’t sleep yet. Not until I’m too tired for my subconscious to remember the Crag.

“Cor?” Just the voice I wanted to hear. I resist the petty urge to put my head on the table as Clarus approaches. His voice is sharp as it ever is when he finds me at my desk come dawn. “I had to learn from the guards that you’d returned.”

My chest aches, that sharp rememory pain of the sniper shot. I should have called him, but I couldn’t risk someone seeing me before I’d changed. I’d snuck into my apartment into my extra Crownsguard blacks, hoping against hope that no one at the Gates had noticed me.

Someone would have questioned how shredded my clothes were, while my skin beneath was totally unmarred.

Sneaking through the defenses at the Tenebrae border had proven too difficult. Too many MTs and magitek armor for me to cut through without being felled myself. The third time I had risen, hours later, from a tacky pool of my own blood, I’d been forced to turn back.

No other choice, even as I realized through the haze of pain that saving the boy had cost our hope of shutting down the MT facility.

I trudged through the long abandoned Front, chest itching. Shiny pink scar tissue stretched across my chest where the sniper’s round had burst my chest like some over-ripe fruit. The scar tightening as it shrank. Healing before my eyes. By time I found a freight train to hide on, my skin had been smooth again. Perfect.

I blink out of the memory. Shit. Quiet too long. Clarus stares at me. “I wanted to finish this while it was still fresh,” I tell him, gesturing at my paperwork.

“Come to bed,” he suggests, and his voice gentle as Duscae rain.

I almost relax. He’s a good commander—his voice is enough to set even me at ease, and not simply because I’m bedding him. Yet, there are practicalities to attend. “And Gladiolus? He’s old enough to question my coming and going.”

“He’ll understand. Gladio is a sensitive kid. He knows I was worried.”

A little young, to learn the fears of War. But then, that comes part and parcel to growing up these days, even protected in Insomnia. He’s an Amicitia, too. He’ll live the War more than most.

“Grace will be back for his birthday, won’t she?” His mother, for all she typically stays in her beloved Altissia, usually makes the effort to come out for holidays and birthdays, or when there’s some state function she must attend in this city she despises.

“Yes,” Clarus pauses. He frowns thoughtfully at the ceiling, the way he does when he doesn’t want to admit something. “We’re entering talks about having another child. The marriage contract only specified one, and she is not—overfond of children, you know. But I think… I’d like another.” Of course he does. Clarus loves children more than anyone else I know.

In a perfect world, not only would Clarus stay home all day to care for his plethora of bright children, but he would have taken the tiny one I found, too. Perhaps we could have raised the boy together. I struggle not to snort.

It’s a defeatingly futile thought.

“Go home, Clarus,” I tell him, and the exhaustion twists my tone into something sour. “I’ll warm your bed another night.”

Shield to my Sword: if the barb stings, he brushes it off like he shrugs off any blow. “If that’s your wish. But I insist you warm a bed, even if it’s not mine.”

I nod. Might be he’s right. He is more often than I care admit.

Clarus brushes his lips over my forehead in a gesture soft enough my chest burns again. Precision of a sniper, that man, every time. He always knows exactly how to gut me with his love. A promise of everything I want, that I cannot have.

I stand with enough force the chair topples. He catches it. “Cor—“

“Apologies. I’ll go back to my apartment. Another night? Before you have to start baby-making.” I don’t even mean to be an ass. It just slips out. It’s been a long few months.

But I’m lucky tonight, and Clarus lets me go.

I even start in the direction of my apartment. Usually I stay in my quarters in the Citadel and let my apartment moulder. Sleep. Work. Eat. Repeat. But I hit the everbright streets tonight.

I’m in front of the Orphanage before I make any conscious decision to go. I sit behind the wheel, breathing ragged like I’ve just faced a dozen MTs. The Orphanage hasn’t called, but I have to see. Like maybe seeing will help with that molten guilt-sludge in my gut.

If he’s happy and safe, would my blunder be worth it? No. (How many Lucian children will die in his stead? How many children across the world…?)

It’s easy enough to break in. I’ve had practice, and their locks are old.

Apart from children no one would miss, which are a cheap enough currency these days, what have they to steal?

I creep through the house like I would an enemy base.

He’s awake. Blinking up at the ceiling vacantly. Endless blue eyes. I swallow again and again to clear my throat. I swear he turns to look at me—and his face twists and twists and twists—

I think he’s going to cry for a moment and give away my position. I tense. But he keeps at it and keeps at it, watching me for—what, validation? Kids need that, right?—I realize he’s trying to smile. He keeps trying to turn his lips up and up, but his facial muscles haven’t been trained properly yet.

Oh. Oh. He probably never saw anyone smile. Had I not smiled at him on our trip back? Perhaps not. I take a breath that rattles.

I move over his cradle and smile at the boy. Smile as wide as I can, as best as I can. I’ve had precious little reason to smile for so long now, but—he needs me, so I do.

Astrals, I couldn’t have left him there. I can’t even pretend at regret when I see his face.

Kid gurgles, and he reaches his thin fingers up for me. I know a trap when I see one, but I fall for it anyway. A happier-sounding gurgle when I pick him up. I cradle him to where the gaping holes in my chest were. He fists my new shirt with a surprisingly strong grip.

Does he remember me? How could he? He’s so young, and I’ve been gone a month already. When do kids start to remember things, anyway?

He drifts off in my arms. Does he have difficulty sleeping? Has my presence here somehow soothed him? Gently, I lay him back in the crib. He doesn’t wake.

It turns out I underestimated the staff here. Guess it’s like how Clarus’s hearing got exponentially better after Gladio was born. He can hear me curse from three rooms away if Gladio is the house. It’s ridiculous.

The man from before leans in the doorway with narrowed eyes. Shit this looks bad. “The door was unlocked.”

“Sure it was,” the man humors me, eyes crinkling in the corners with a smile. “We found him a name. Prompto. Cute, huh?”

I grunt. Prompto. Good name. Hopefully he’ll grow into it. The man seems unperturbed by my silence. He asks, “Coffee?”

I shouldn’t. I promised Clarus I would sleep. But I follow the guy to the kitchen anyway, and sip the tepid sludge he pours me. It’s bitter and exactly what I want but don’t need. I’m not really big on caffeine.

Used to make me jittery. Don’t drink enough of it to see if it still holds true or not.

“I’m Lance by the way,” he offers over his own mug. “He’s a fighter, isn’t he? I think a lot of this is all totally new for him, y’know, but he’s trying to understand. Missed a lot of developmental milestones.”

I paid these people for silence, and I don’t feel bad about offering it now. The man’s clumsily fishing for information I can’t even give to my king or my lover. I shrug. Lance sighs. Then, softly, “He’s luckier than most, though. To have someone who obviously cares about him. You’re sure—“

“I can’t.”

It comes more harshly than I intend, but maybe it gets the message across. There are so many reasons I can’t, even if I could—

I could teach him to smile.

No. I don’t even like kids. Gladio is about all the kid I can handle, and that isn’t by choice. Even the Prince is too much, for all that I’ve sworn to protect him. “I can’t,” I repeat. “Are his chances of being adopted… good? Be honest.”

“Well, he’s a baby who doesn’t cry. So that’s… a selling point. I guess? The development issues will be a little trickier, but most people expect war orphans to be a little… different. Even the blond hair probably won’t turn everyone away. So—yeah. His chances are good, I’d say. Until then, you’re welcome to visit.”

Visit. So casually. “I can’t. I just wanted to make sure he was adjusting. Thank you.” I put my empty mug on the counter.

Time to go. “Farewell,” I say, and retreat.

Anons, give me either Noctis being fucked with his fishing rod or fucking someone else with his fishing rod. Here are some ideas but anything would be good:
- Noctis uses the rod for masturbation
- Noctis fucks Prompto with the rod because it turns out Prompto gets turned on watching Noct handle his rod
- Noctis fucks Gladio with the rod because he won't shut up about wanting to fish
- Sub Noctis hasnt been good enough to earn dom Ignis's cock
- Ardyn rapes Noctis with the fishing rod

(no crack please)

What if Noctis had an older brother/sister, who died when he was very young? What if that's part of why Regis has such a fraught relationship with Noctis?

(OP) edit to add -- no infant death please, I'd like the older sibling to be a good bit older. Maybe Regis isn't entirely prematurely aging and he's actually old enough to have lost a teenage son/daughter?

It could be that he ends up having to supervise some nobles' kids or takes care of a fellow bro when they're de-aged but everyone is stunned to find that formal, proper Ignis is actually fantastic with kids.

+ if it's so endearing that it encourages one of the guys to act on their long-held crush on the advisor.

Seconding like fuck, also would love to see with Ignis!

i'm always up for that +1111

In every fic I see where Prompto and Luna have sex, Luna's the dominant partner and calls all the shots. I just want a fun porny fic where Prompto is banging the hell out of Luna and she's just along for the ring and REALLY enjoying it.

NO NON-CON or DUB-CON PLEASE.

Bonus point if she really get off on him coming inside her (no condom please)

Yess

Seconding so hard

Because he can canonically make potions out of sports drinks, lol. Maybe he messes up one time and tries to make a potion while thinking sex thoughts and accidentally makes really potent magical aphrodisiacs.

Not opposed to ot4, but the emphasis should be on Noct (as in, he needs to be one of the effected participants and it should be from his POV)

I've read soooo many fics where Noct sleeps with one or all the guys as an excuse to prepare him for his wedding night with Luna. So I'd love to read a fic set in a verse where he did just that, and now it's time to sleep with her.

And he's either a) marginally more prepared than he would have been as a virgin and they have an okay time of it; not excellent but all-around sweet. Or b) his experience with whichever guy he was with is hilariously non-applicable (she doesn't have a dick to suck or wants to get fucked in the ass, imagine that).

Either way I'd like it to end with both of them getting off somehow. And maybe (definitely!) having a laugh together.

I. I want to see this. +1

One of them makes an escape attempt, the other ises commotion as cover to stage their own escape, they run into each and decide they have better odds of surviving if they stick together, and escape Nifleheim with each other's help.

Well I'm stressed, depressed, and in a dark mood so I'll give this a shot.

Bros get drunk and wake up with matching tattoos.

This is both cute and hilarious :D

I need this in my life.

+10000000

YES

That Episode Ignis trailer, you guys... ;_;

Please a fic where Ignoct is being sweet and fluffy because they deserve better than the hand they were both dealt.

Bonuses everywhere if it's post-Altissia and Noctis is comforting Iggy and kissing his scars

Mega infinity bonus if it's post game fix it fic

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 187 of 212

Prompt Post Round Five

Chocobros/other -- [NON-CON] sacrificing themselves for Noct

Re: Noct/Gladio or Noct/Ardyn - reacharound

Re: Thief Fanfic

Re: Noctis/Prompto: Grey Sweatpants Season

Fill: On the Way to a Smile (Cor & Prompto, Clarus/Cor, E) [1/?]

Noctis/fishing rod (/any), fishing rod used for purposes other than fishing

gen or any, Noctis wasn't an only child

Re: gen or any, Noctis wasn't an only child

Ignis/Any bro or Gen - Ignis is great with kids

Re: Chocobros/other -- [NON-CON] sacrificing themselves for Noct

Re: Prompto, sickfic

Luna/Prompto porn Dom!Prompto

Re: Prompto, sickfic

Re: Noctis/Prompto: Grey Sweatpants Season

Noct/Any, sex pollen kinda? - Noct accidentally makes aphrodisiacs

Noct/Luna - Practicing with the bros does or does not help him fuck her

Re: Noctis/fishing rod (/any), fishing rod used for purposes other than fishing

Noctis/Prompto, Captive Noctis and MT Prompto break out

Re: GladNoct(ish): noncon, self-sacrificing!Gladio

Gen, Matching tattoos

Re: Gen, Matching tattoos

Re: OT4 leaked sex tape

Re: Noct/Ignis or Noct/Gladio, the shovel talk

Re: Noct/Any, sex pollen kinda? - Noct accidentally makes aphrodisiacs

Ignis/Noctis, literally anything sweet and fluffy