ffxv_kinkmeme | 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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

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…”

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

I'M ACTUALLY DECEASED, A!A

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Prompt Post Round Five

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

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