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

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.
No reposting of prompts from previous rounds, please.
No Meme-Police. Only ffxv_kinknator and ffxv_kinkhelper and ffxv_kinkmod are allowed to mod the meme. If you spot a rules violation, don't comment in the thread, report it on the Ask a mod post.

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)

If you'd like to advertise a fill, head on over to the fills post! This is, of course, entirely optional.
New Prompts are Closed for this round. Please wait until 11/13/2017 for Round Six.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

This is hysterical, especially the thought of Prompto aggressively shoving himself in between Noctis and a girl like "OH I DIDN'T SEE YOU THERE", lol, I need this.

+100

Why not, right?
The chocobros in the assassin's robes as Ardyn's harem, following him around and serving at his command.

Bonuses:
+ Ardyn plays favorites
+++ Noctis owes half of them life debts because he keeps asking them to tend to Ardyn in the morning so he can get some sleep.
+++++++ Except sometimes sleepy sex is just what Ardyn wants, soooo...

Noctis loves--LOVES--getting fucked into the bed by a nice, big cock. The cock in question can be fleshy or strap on, he doesn't care. And he's disturbingly good at convincing people to give him the nice hard fucking that he's always looking for.

Just give me the prince shamelessly seducing pretty much everyone he meets and riding their cocks like a pro.

Potential filler here. How would you feel about the Nox Fleuret siblings being rescued from Tenebrae and brought to him for safety? I'm lowkey picturing Cor winding up with a whole flock of babies growing up together at the warehouse in Caem.

Hon, as soon as I get back from Dallas and get a decent internet connection, I will write you this fic. It's tough times ahead and we gotta support each other through it.

They’re in what Ignis assumes is the plaza in front of the Citadel gates, based on the distance they’ve gone, when Prompto freezes.

“Prompto?” Gladio asks. Ignis stops and makes his way back to where he can hear them breathing—just in time for Prompto to take off in the other direction. “Prompto!”

Gladio darts after him, and Ignis keeps an ear on them while he picks his way over the cobblestones. Prompto apparently doesn’t go far, as the sound of his footsteps skids to a stop about twenty metres ahead.

“No fuckin’ way.”

“What is it?” Ignis asks as he catches up, daggers held tightly in his hands.

“Just some clothes,” Gladio says dismissively. “C’mon, Prom, we have better things to take care of.”

“No, dude, you don’t get it.” Prompto’s voice comes from waist height—crouched over something. “These are Ardyn’s clothes.”

It takes a moment for it to sink in. Neither of them ask if he’s sure.

“Holy shit,” Gladio echoes.

Ignis closes his eyes, letting the useless motion focus him. Now that he lets himself take notice, the feeling of Noct’s magic that has been saturating the air like particularly dense humidity has gained a… stronger flavour here. There’s something else, something darker, floating there as well, but it’s faded and vague like every feeling of daemon he’s sensed since the first dawn. “Is this where they battled, then?”

He gives them a minute to look around, and finally Gladio moves off a few feet. “Looks like warp marks,” he says.

“Metal strikes on the stones,” Prompto adds as he stands. “Armiger, probably.”

“Two of them, if my guess is right,” Ignis says. “Ardyn was, after all, a Lucis Caelum long ago.”

“Noct’s was stronger, though.” There’s a vicious sort of satisfaction in Gladio’s voice, and Ignis wonders what state the clothes are in to give him such confidence.

Prompto asks the most salient question. “So if he won, where is he?”

“I imagine he would have moved into the Citadel. He’s unlikely to have stayed outside for days, after all.”

They give the plaza a once-over anyway, just in case, though they find nothing else. Ignis tries to ignore the odd feeling in his gut that whispers that something… isn’t right.

When they step through the Citadel gates into the main square, Ignis stops them.

“He summoned one of the Six here,” he says quietly. “No,” he corrects himself, tasting the cold bite of Shiva and something else, something sharper. “Two, if I’m not mistaken.”

Prompto whistles. “Damn, Noct. Why would he have to do that?”

Gladio’s voice comes from further ahead. “Probably because he was fighting the Betrayer.”

Prompto and Ignis make their way forward, and Prompto whistles again at whatever he sees there.

“Scorch marks,” Gladio says for Ignis’ benefit. “Massive ones. Bigger than anything Noct could’ve made with a fire flask.”

“I woulda paid to see that fight,” Prompto says reverently.

“Hopefully there will never be a need to,” Ignis replies sternly. Prompto gives a little chuckle, but it’s short-lived. Even he isn’t immune to the somber mood that seems to hang around the square—a battle between gods, to secure the future of the world.

They move on after a few long, silent minutes.

--

The moment they step through the doors into the Citadel proper, Ignis suggests splitting up.

“There’s little reason to investigate all together,” he reasons. “I doubt any daemons remain, and anything lesser is well within our abilities. And we can cover more ground.” He waits for their sounds of assent before continuing. “Prompto, as I’m sure the areas you’re most familiar with are the living quarters—”

“On it,” Prompto says, more subdued than usual. They’ve all picked up on the strange atmosphere.

“I’ll take the lower halls and training areas,” Gladio says.

“And I’ll take the upper halls.” Ignis nods sharply. “If you find nothing, meet back here.”

There’s little more to say, so they branch off quickly. Ignis makes his way to the elevator and the adjacent staircase, a familiar route that he’s walked hundreds of times in his life—though never without sight. It’s a strange feeling, but one he’s grown used to over the years.

He tries the elevator button without really thinking about it, and… it dings, and there’s a hiss as the doors slide open.

“Strange…” he mutters to himself as he steps inside. There’s little reason for it to still be operational, and yet…

The foreboding feeling from the plaza increases as the elevator rises. When the doors open, he can’t help but take a step back as the weight of the air around him increases. There’s a sharp sting to the air, like a lightning bolt just after it strikes, and it tingles along his skin. The faint sweet-burnt scent that Ignis had come to associate with Noctis’ magic after Altissia hangs around him, flooding his nose more strongly than he’s ever smelled before. It’s tinged with something else, something other, that he can’t identify.

His nerves jangle, though not in the way that indicates an active threat.

If Noct banished the Accursed in the plaza… Why is there so much more magic concentrated here?

With significantly more wariness than before, Ignis proceeds forward, following not just his memory of the place but also the steady increase of pressure as he steps toward…

The throne room.

When he pushes the slightly-ajar door fully open, he’s practically assaulted by the overwhelming stink of otherworldly magic. It slides along his skin and threatens to steal his breath, and he has to stop for a moment to gather himself and adjust.

Something happened here. Something huge.

“Your Majesty?” he tries once he gets his breath back. “Noctis?”

There’s no reply. Ignis steps into the throne room, letting his feet drag slightly to provide some warning if there are obstacles on the floor. Undoubtedly some part of the invasion of Insomnia took place in this room, and he’s willing to bet it hasn’t been left in pristine condition.

He shuffles forward, kicking a few bits of rubble and navigating around them toward the other end of the room. Once he starts getting used to it, he can almost trace the magic in the air as it swirls. The origin seems to be coming from the dais where the throne sits.

There’s a sinking, trembling thing in his gut, something screaming wrong wrong wrong, and he clenches his hands and ignores it.

He finds the stairs, and immediately discovers they’re nearly impassable. Shuffling to the right there seems to be a clearer path, and he takes it warily. The pressure of the magic increases again, though it doesn’t feel… active. More as though it was used in such great quantities that it’s been hanging around the source ever since, slowly dissipating.

Ignis reaches the top of the stairs. It’s another four steps to the throne.

He hesitates.

Wrong wrong wrong!

He draws a deep breath and steps forward. His hand makes contact with the armrest of the throne, and then—

Something else. Something softer.

He strips his gloves before he has a chance to think, laying fingers against cold skin and tracing down to find a hand, fingers—

His own hands follow the arm up, finding a half-sleeve and the familiar edges of a jacket—

His heart is hammering in his chest as his fingers skim across a collar to the skin of a throat, and there he lays them firmly down, shaking, waiting—

There’s no pulse.

He lurches forward, hands falling, pull him off, get help, where are the potions—

And he encounters something cold, hard, and utterly unmoving. He runs his hand along it, a long piece of metal leading away, out into the room.

A… a sword?

There’s a frozen moment of blissful ignorance before comprehension blazes through him. His hand trembles as he lays it against a face he can’t see. His voice cracks and breaks, just once.

“Oh, Noct…”

OP here, thank you. That just -rubs tears away- thank you.

Someone fucking Prompto while they wear the chocobo mascot suit (which is apparently named Chocobro lol) and Prompto is 6000% into it and has the best sex of his life

+ Dirty talk about Prompto having and laying a chocobo egg

++ It's a casual hookup and Prompto never actually bothers to find out who's in the suit because he doesn't care

💔💔💔💔 ow, my heart. Poor Ignis for finding Noctis 💔

I'M ACTUALLY DECEASED, A!A

Hi! I wasn't thinking originally about Ingnis for this, but I don't mind either way!

OP - Dad Cor with moar kids? Fuck yes!

god yes I need more slutty Noctis in my life +100000

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

He's dedicated pretty much his whole life to Noct. When would he have found the time? He would've probably rationalized it as never being able to give another person the attention they deserve because of his duty/loyalty to his prince.

+ Bonus points for emphasis on body modesty too (inspired by - SPOILERS - how uncomfortable he was about his revealing attire for the Assassin Festival)

So the Assassin's Festival DLC is to promote AC: Origins, which takes place in Egypt (love me that mythology) and after doing some research, a Medjay named Bayek is the main character of Origins, which I think makes him the original Assassin in all of history.

Imagine Noctis and Pronpto fangirling over tgis video game franchise, not realizing that hey, maybe all these games are based off an actual person, that The Assassin is not just a legend or myth. The Assassin is Bayek and as it turns out, Bayek is very real

+Noctis and Prompto decide to do the Leap of Faith, and Bayek does as well

++Bayek says something that reveals he's The Assassin this whole franchise/festival is based on and Noctis uses his magic to figure out if he's telling the truth. When it's revealed that Bayek is in fact telling the truth, Noctis and Prompto freak out on the way home because "Holy fuck Ignis that guy is The Assassin" "That's nice, Noct, buckle your seat lest you want to fly through the windshield"

http://archiveofourown.org/works/11964891/chapters/27056025

This is my first time writing anything for kink meme, and this may have been a bit different than what the prompt wanted but I hope it's good anyhow! (Hurt/comfort will come later, I swear!)

Double update to make up for yesterday and to hopefully get this thing all out before the long weekend. (I'm.... a little sorry for this part? But not really.)

There's another two parts to go (though I can't promise it gets better). This thing DEFINITELY got away from me.

-----

Gladio stares down at the text from Ignis, a sliver of unease lancing through him.

[Throne room]

Nothing else. Iggy’s usually more specific, especially when they’re not being casual.

Maybe it’s nothing.

He’s just outside the main training room when he gets it, so it’s only a few minutes before he makes it up the stairs and down the winding hallways to the primary receiving areas. He runs into Prompto just outside the main hall, puffing slightly as he jogs through the door.

“You think he found Noct?” he asks brightly. There’s a serious tilt to his eyes, but Gladio can see the incessant optimism shining through.

“Guess we’ll see,” he grunts, trying not to let his uncertainty show.

It’s just a few more halls before they reach the throne room. As they approach, Gladio notices one of the big doors hanging open.

It’s… quiet. Unnaturally so.

He hesitates at the door, something in him saying that he doesn’t want to go forward. He can’t pin it down, can’t make sense of it, but he knows that if he walks through that door, everything will change.

Prompto makes the decision for him.

There’s a shuffle as the other man steps past the doorway, then an abrupt silence.

And then…

“NOCT!”

There’s nothing bright in that shout as it splits the air, cracking like a whip and full of pain. Gladio’s feet drag him forward without his permission, and he steps through the door.

He’ll never forget the sight for the rest of his life.

Noct is so still. He’s dressed in the same battered, worn fatigues they’d seen him in last, dirty and torn in a few places and looking strangely small on his frame. His older frame. His hair is longer, hanging over his face as his head falls forward, and there’s the whisper of a beard along the side of his jaw. His arms are resting quietly on the armrests of the throne. One hand is limp, lying half-curled against the wood, and the other is laced tightly with Ignis’.

Ignis sits curled motionlessly on the other side of the armrest, his face tucked so tightly against it that Gladio can’t see anything of it. His knuckles are white with how hard he’s gripping Noct’s hand.

Gladio’s eyes are drawn, inevitably, magnetically, to the massive sword thrust straight through his King’s chest.

Everything is white noise. He can hear Prompto screaming, can see him dashing up the steps, calling Noct’s name over and over and over, grabbing hold of his free arm and shaking him. He can see the rise and fall of Ignis’ chest, the way his hands curl impossibly tighter around Noct’s, how his shoulders hunch up further. He can hear the beat of his own heart, pounding louder and louder in his ears until there’s nothing else.

Thump… Thump… Thump… Thump…

And then the world comes rushing back, like a bubble bursting.

“NO!”

Gladio trips forward, stumbling like he never has in his life. Rubble catches at his feet, reaching with knife-like fingers to trip him. He falls twice and doesn’t feel the impact. His hands scrabble at the stairway banister, tearing his palms where the stone has broken, but he doesn’t care.

He has to get—

If he can just—

He goes to his knees in front of the throne, breath wild, hands reaching, because all he needs to do is get there and Noctis will be okay—

When his hands reach cold, unmoving flesh, everything freezes.

He… he can’t…

Noct’s face is still under his hands, expression slack, eyes closed and unmoving. No air moves out of his lungs. No blood moves through his veins. There’s just… nothing.

Time stands still for an eternity.

“Phoenix Down,” Gladio rasps. When no one responds, he wrenches his eyes from his king—his dead king—to stare blankly at Ignis. “We need… We need Phoenix Down.”

Ignis doesn’t move.

Gladio shifts his gaze to Prompto, something rising in his chest—something with teeth. “We have to—there’s no time, why are you—”

Prompto stares at him, eyes wide and wet and uncomprehending.

“It won’t work.” Ignis’ voice is nothing like it should be, rough and small and empty. “The magic is gone.”

Gladio’s hands spasm, two fingers brushing through a lock of Noct’s hair and scratching across his beard.

“He’s gone.”

Prompto is draped over Noct’s arm, an unending litany of no no no please no falling from his lips. Ignis is silent, still, so cold that you’d think he was frozen in ice, and Gladio—

Gladio snaps.

It might be words. It might be shouting. It might be a silent scream. He doesn’t know, doesn’t care, as something tears its way out of his throat, biting and ripping and shredding as it goes. The world seizes around him, ballooning out and then compressing down into nothing.

He’s gone.

He’s gone.

Your entire purpose is gone.

Gone.

Dead.

And you weren’t there to stop it.

When reality comes crashing back, he can’t feel his hands. He looks down to find them a bloody mess, torn to shreds with pieces of stone embedded in his knuckles. His gaze travels down to the floor, where his sword—not his sword, never, his sword was lost when the Armiger was closed to them—where the sword he’s wielded for years lies shattered, the hilt thrown to the side and twisted pieces of sharpened metal strewn among the broken stone. Stone that bears the marks of a blade, over and over again.

Prompto’s voice carries from very far away. “I-it’s… his own sword—w-why would he—”

“Not his own,” Ignis says blankly. “The Sword of the Father. I suspect…” There’s a long silence. “I suspect that there was a price to pay in order to dispel the darkness.”

“But… but he already—How is that fair?” Prompto sobs.

“There is very little that is fair when it comes to gods.”

Gladio stares down at his hands. They’re shaking, dripping blood onto the floor.

Ptt. Ptt. Ptt.

He still can’t feel anything. There’s a ringing in his ears, high pitched and incessant, like an old TV left on.

Is he even breathing?

He finds he doesn’t care.

“What… what do we do now?” Prompto’s voice is tiny, like a child’s.

Nothing. We do nothing.

“Continue,” Ignis’ voice says, though there’s nothing of Ignis left behind it.

OP - Aaaauuugghh that hurt. But in a good way, no don't apologize A!A I asked for this pain and it's perfection.

Two more parts! Can't wait to see what they do! Oh lordy those reactions! Ungf Gladio's hit like a truck, particularly.

*dlc spoiler?*

OK so Noct's nipple (in ass creed fest) looks kinda puffy?? juicy?? tucked away under that belt thing. This has left me with a mighty thirst for Noctis having very sensitive nipples. And Ignis dedicating himself to playing with them and um... developing that sensitivity.

Potential filler here! I have three ideas for this, so would OP prefer desperate sex while Leviathan is wrecking Altissia, a dramatic ritual Ardyn is convinced to participate in or a slower seduction focused on mind games with a more dominant Luna? Maybe a combination of things? Any squicks/dislikes?

(you can tell I love this pairing lol)

Plllllease someone

No Royalty no magic AU plz.

Noctis meets an eccentric older man while on vacation and ends up having a one night stand with him.

Meanwhile Regis has been spending a consirable amount of time a money in the last few years trying to track down his brother his parents threw out when he was younger and now it looks like he finally found him. Three guesses who he turns out to be, and no the first two don't count.

ç_ç

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 77 of 212

Prompt Post Round Five

Re: Noctis + Prompto: Reverse Wingman, Best Friend

Re: Noctis/any prostate stimulation

Chocobros/Ardyn, The bros are Ardyn's harem

Noctis/everyone, Noctis is a shameless cockslut

Re: Gen, Dad Cor raises all the the bros (+Iris)

Re: Gen or Any/Any; Realization

FILL (4/?): Gen or OT4, Noctis doesn't reunite with the bros

Re: Gen or Any/Any; Realization

Any/Prompto, chocobo suit

Re: FILL (4/?): Gen or OT4, Noctis doesn't reunite with the bros

Re: FILL (4/?): Gen or OT4, Noctis doesn't reunite with the bros

OP Here: Re: Dad!Cor + Prompto Ruins Cor's Intimidating Facade

Re: Gen, Dad Cor raises all the the bros (+Iris)

Re: Noctis/everyone, Noctis is a shameless cockslut

Re: FILL (4/?): Gen or OT4, Noctis doesn't reunite with the bros

Ignis/Any (or none) - Iggy is a virgin

(FFXV/Assassin's Creed Crossover) An Actual Assassin Does The Leap Of Faith at The Festival

Fill: Gen different meeting for kid Noctis and kid Prompto

FILL (5/7): Gen or OT4, Noctis doesn't reunite with the bros

Re: FILL (5/7): Gen or OT4, Noctis doesn't reunite with the bros

Ignis/Noctis: puffy nipples, nipple play

Re: Luna/Ardyn, Magical Healing Cunt

Re: Noctis/Prompto, Escaped MT!Prompto knows nothing about sex

Ardyn/Noctis, Accidental incest

Re: FILL (5/7): Gen or OT4, Noctis doesn't reunite with the bros