Prompt Post
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ffxv_kinkmeme Welcome to Round One 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 12/30/16: I'm looking for some help! Details here. (I'm always looking for more pinners; this is an open invitation.)
I've added/clarified some rules to make life easier to my pinners. Please refrain from changing the subject lines except when filling or updating a fill. It makes it easier for us to keep track of what we've already looked at. Thank you so much!
UPDATE 1/28/17: We've opened up a Drabble Tree post! Go check it out.
UPDATE 2/21/2017: ROUND ONE IS CLOSED FOR PROMPTS. Please feel free to continue posting fills. Round Two will open for prompts and fills on 3/1/2017.
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.
- 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 12/30/16: I'm looking for some help! Details here. (I'm always looking for more pinners; this is an open invitation.)
I've added/clarified some rules to make life easier to my pinners. Please refrain from changing the subject lines except when filling or updating a fill. It makes it easier for us to keep track of what we've already looked at. Thank you so much!
UPDATE 1/28/17: We've opened up a Drabble Tree post! Go check it out.
UPDATE 2/21/2017: ROUND ONE IS CLOSED FOR PROMPTS. Please feel free to continue posting fills. Round Two will open for prompts and fills on 3/1/2017.
Re: NON-CON, Ardyn/Prompto, Blackmail
Date: 2016-12-29 12:19 am (UTC)Re: Vyv/Noctis, drunk sex (dub/non-con)
Date: 2016-12-29 12:20 am (UTC)OP Here
Date: 2016-12-29 12:21 am (UTC)Prompto/Gladio: Big spoon/little spoon
Date: 2016-12-29 12:21 am (UTC)OP Here
Date: 2016-12-29 12:26 am (UTC)Re: Part Two (Filler Anon)
Date: 2016-12-29 12:32 am (UTC)(What have I become)
Re: Vyv/Noctis, drunk sex (dub/non-con)
Date: 2016-12-29 12:34 am (UTC)Sania/Wyvern - rape, bestiality, revenge, noncon, hard genital torture, blood, gore
Date: 2016-12-29 01:25 am (UTC)Just in case nobody remembers what Sania, or a wyvern looks like
https://s30.postimg.org/qntfdynkh/prompt.jpg
Ardyn/Noctis, Serial Killer AU
Date: 2016-12-29 01:42 am (UTC)Eat him?)Cor/Regis, Gag
Date: 2016-12-29 02:06 am (UTC)Re: Ardyn/Noctis, Serial Killer AU
Date: 2016-12-29 02:14 am (UTC)Re: Cor/Regis, Gag
Date: 2016-12-29 02:18 am (UTC)Re: FILL: E!!Insomnia 1/1 (Kinda gen; hints of Noctis with everyone)
Date: 2016-12-29 02:24 am (UTC)Re: Ardyn/Noctis, Serial Killer AU
Date: 2016-12-29 02:25 am (UTC)Re: OP Here
Date: 2016-12-29 02:28 am (UTC)OP
Date: 2016-12-29 02:34 am (UTC)Re: Ardyn/Noctis, Serial Killer AU
Date: 2016-12-29 02:46 am (UTC)Re: OP
Date: 2016-12-29 02:47 am (UTC)Here's the link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/9097870/chapters/20682754
Re: Ardyn/Noctis, Serial Killer AU
Date: 2016-12-29 02:50 am (UTC)daemon!noctis/ardyn
Date: 2016-12-29 02:53 am (UTC)everything else is up to you
FILL: Silver Fox - 1/3
Date: 2016-12-29 03:22 am (UTC)Noctis needs to learn to knock.
He knows this because Ignis has been telling him for months that it’s rude to just assume he’s welcome everywhere he goes but that isn’t why he does - or doesn’t - do it. He just kind of forgets. He’s used to people opening doors for him so it’s never really been his responsibility to knock.
So he doesn’t think about it and Noctis just lets himself into the quarters he used to share with his father in the castle. Regis is late to meet him, which is nothing unusual for his father, and Noctis just wants somewhere comfortable to relax while he waits.
The chess game Noctis and his father started nearly two weeks ago is still sitting untouched in the drawing room, and Noctis finds himself staring at the board hopelessly. He knows the rules, the movements, but he’s never had the mind for strategy like his father or Ignis do. He’s seen them checkmate each other in a handful of minutes whereas it takes Noctis days to even check his father. He’s tempted to cheat, but his father would know.
Carefully, Noctis moves one of his knights and takes out a bishop. He’s pretty sure he’s just screwed himself over, but he doesn’t have time to dwell on it because there’s a rough thump against the wall in his father’s office.
Fearing the worst, Noctis is on his feet in an instant. Had Cor or Clarus said anything about his father’s health recently? Noctis knows his knee has been giving him problems, but this didn’t sound like the kind of thump of somebody hitting the floor. He’s moving to investigate before he even has time to think about it, chess game forgotten.
The first thing Noctis notices when he opens the door to his father’s office is that the noise he’d heard was the sound of his father’s body hitting the wall. Which leads him to the sight of someone on their knees in front of his father, Regis’ fingers in their hair, and oh, that’s not a woman followed by oh, ew.
Noctis is horror stricken. He knows he should slam the door and steal wine from the kitchen before demanding Ignis take him home, but he’s stuck. A noise dies in his throat, but it’s enough for his father’s green eyes to snap up and meet his own.
“Noctis,” his father says, and even now his tone manages to come out as a reprimand.
The man on his knees stops what he’s doing - what Noctis hopes to never see or imagine again - and looks over his shoulder in confusion. His face is flushed and lips are swollen and he looks surprisingly alert for someone who was just otherwise distracted.
“Fuck,” Gladiolus says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Noctis.”
Noctis leaves the door open behind him and turns on his heels. He calls Ignis and demands to be picked up before he’s even left the royal quarters.
“You’re missing your practice with Gladio,” Ignis comments. He doesn’t push the issue, he never does, but Noctis can hear the disappointment in his tone. “You’ve already missed one this week.”
“I don’t want to go anymore,” Noctis mumbles. He wants to pull on his pyjamas and crawl under a blanket on the couch, but he knows Ignis won’t let him until he’s at least finished his homework. His disappointed voice and the thing he does with his eyebrows goes right to Noctis’ gut. It’s a weapon.
Ignis sighs heavily.
Noctis groans and rubs the heels of his hands into his eyes. “What would you do if you saw something completely horrifying and you couldn’t get it out of your head?”
“Well, I wouldn’t suggest drinking and hiding in your room,” Ignis says, mildly. He knows about the wine because he knows everything about Noctis. He frowns. “Did something happen at your session? Do you need me to speak to Gladio?”
“God, no,” Noctis says. He shifts his weight from foot to foot and tries to figure out the words he wants to say. “It’s too embarrassing.”
“I’m afraid I don’t follow,” Ignis says. He’s starting to look genuinely concerned, and Noctis’ stomach flip flops from anxiety. “I will speak to Gladio. You will return to practice next week.”
“I hate you,” Noctis groans. The truth is going to come out and Noctis’ shame will be greater. “You’d tell me if you were seeing someone, right? Especially if it was someone I knew?”
Ignis blinks slowly, looking genuinely surprised. “I suppose, if it was relevant to my duty, yes. I am allowed to have some semblance of a life.”
“You like taking care of me,” Noctis says. He nods, satisfied. “You would tell me. I can trust you.”
Ignis makes a sound, not quite a laugh, but he’s smiling fondly. “Do your homework. I’ll make you something to eat.”
“What the hell did you tell Ignis?” Gladiolus asks the second they’re alone together.
The question has been hanging in the air since they started training, almost an hour ago, but neither Noctis or Gladiolus wanted to confront the issue when Clarus of all people was lingering in the room, watching. It would have been enough for both of them to die, then potentially cause Regis’ murder as well.
Noctis squares his shoulders and tries to stand his ground against the heavy shove Gladiolus uses against him. It doesn’t work, not really, but Noctis doesn’t end up on his ass, either. “I didn’t tell him anything!”
Gladiolus narrows his eyes like he doesn’t believe him. “Iggy told me he thinks you’re jealous because I’m seeing someone. Someone you know.”
If he had anything in him to retch, Noctis is sure he would. He’s been trying to keep that image out of his mind since it happened, but it comes to him unbidden. He could have happily died without ever knowing his father was still active. After he’d awkwardly tried to give Noctis the talk, too. The benefits of saving yourself when you’re in the position you’re in. It was all bullshit.
“I’m not - I’m not seeing anyone,” Gladiolus says. He massages his temples and sighs, agitated. “It just happens sometimes. I don’t know.”
“When you’re talking about me?” Noctis asks, wrinkling his nose in disgust.
“Gods, no,” Gladiolus says, sounding equally disgusted. “Contrary to what you believe, you’re not the center of the universe. We were talking about the lost royal tombs this last time. I don’t know how it got there.”
“Well, it has to stop,” Noctis says, hotly.
Gladiolus looks him dead in the eye and says, “no.”
Noctis’ face flushes and he has to fight the urge to storm out of the training room and slam the door on his way out. “Well at least learn to lock the door!”
“Maybe learn to knock,” Gladiolus says, but he’s got the beginnings of a grin on his face and Noctis hates him so much right now. Even more than he normally does, when they’re training together.
“I hate you,” Noctis says, and Gladiolus laughs.
Fill: Four Times Noctis Made Someone Fall In Love With His Singing
Date: 2016-12-29 03:35 am (UTC)Warnings for light Chapter 4 spoilers and Ardyn being an absolute creep.
-
1.
“You have a beautiful voice, Noctis,” Regis once tells him, a long long time ago. “Just like your mother. When she sang, the whole world stopped to listen.”
“Mother could stop time?” Noctis had asked, awestruck at the thought for he was still young and naïve and understood things in the simple way only a child could.
Regis laughs, full body and hearty for this was during a time when duty and responsibility had not yet stolen his strength and grief was kept at bay for Noctis’ sake. “Yes. With a voice like that, even the Astrals were moved.”
“Wow,” Noctis breathes. He grins, bright and infectious and determined. “So if I sing for you every day dad, does that mean you’ll live forever?”
Regis smiles; it is a complex expression that Noctis will still be unable to decipher years later but the Noctis here and now can only think that he has made his father happy and that is all that matters to him.
“When you sing, Noctis, I feel anything is possible.”
2.
It was rare for the chocobos to grow agitated enough to fight with their riders but a combination of unfortunate events during their travels that day had Noctis and his group fighting to even mount them. It is through these unusual circumstances and desperate measures to not lose their only means of transportation through the mountainous terrain back to their car that has Noctis doing what he does next.
He begins to hum.
It’s a low sound at first, barely even audible to himself but his chocobo—on the verge of snapping it’s reins—hears it. And pauses.
That’s enough encouragement for Noctis to hum louder, clearer until it fills the whole clearing and all of the chocobos have paused in their struggles to listen. Noctis, only having eyes for his own chocobo, does not notice the silence.
He only sees how his own chocobo now moves closer towards his hand instead of away and continues to hum. He lets himself think of bright summer days by a clear lake, his joy when he caught his first fish and transform that into a wordless melody to his chocobo.
His chocobo moves, enraptured, and places it’s beak against Noctis’ hand. Noctis strokes it’s beak with one hand and pets it’s neck with his other, his humming never stopping until his chocobo has grown still within the circle of his arms.
Prompto lets out a whoosh of air, as though he had suddenly remembered how to breathe. Next to him, he thinks he hear Gladio and Ignis doing the same.
“Dude,” Prompto breathes. “That was amazing.”
His actions seeming to have finally caught up to him, Noctis flushes and quickly removes his arms from around his chocobo. “No—that was just—“
“Superb,” Ignis finishes for him. He eyes Noctis with both approval and pride.
Gladio grins. “Looks like we’ve got ourselves a chocobo tamer.”
Noctis turns even redder and quickly mounts his chocobo, pushing it into a quick gallop before any more could be said about his voice.
3.
It’s difficult, but they manage to get Noctis to sing.
Prompto finds the karaoke version of a popular pop song they’ve all heard of on his phone and Noctis—still nervous and awkward but unwilling to deny his friends in the things that truly matter—lets himself go and sings.
They fall in love at first note.
Noctis sings like how he fights – light, graceful but fiercely. But there is also gentleness, compassion in the same way Noctis loves his kingdom, loves his people even when he doesn’t think he can protect them the way he’s meant to protect them.
Noctis sings, and the whole world stops to listen.
When he finishes the song, there is silence. It’s like the world had stopped breathing, had forgotten everything in it’s rapture.
It’s broken when Prompto laughs and leaps towards Noctis to grab him in a hug.
“Holy crap Noct!” Prompto breathes, voice thin and high like he’s winded from running a marathon. “Your singing it’s—it’s—“
“Marvelous,” Ignis finishes, his voice hushed with awe. “An absolute wonder to listen to.”
“What Iggy said!” And Prompto laughs again, squeezing Noctis like he’s trying to convey all his affection and pride into something physical. “Seriously Noct, you sing like an angel.”
“We should have Noctis replace the Regalia’s radio,” Gladio teases but there’s fondness in his eyes, a lingering smile on his lips.
Noctis can feel his cheeks burning and ducks his head. “It’s just one song. And it’s not like I can sing all the time – my throat’s too dry for that.”
“Then drink more water,” Prompto says, still refusing to let go of Noctis. “Seriously though Noct, you gotta sing more. It’s a crime not letting the world hear more of your voice!”
There’s a lot Noctis can say to that but his friends are all still smiling, the open happiness on their faces something he can’t deny (when would he ever be able to deny them their small joys? The small pockets of time where he can see them without his burdens weighing them down?).
“Fine,” Noctis agrees. “But only a request a day. And you all owe me a rare item in King’s Knight.”
(Considering what they were going to be able to hear every day, they all agree it’s a small price to pay.)
4.
The strange man they meet in Lestallum is anything but a welcome presence in their party but there is only so much distance that can be put between them without outright ostracizing him. As it is, Prompto is reluctant to go along with their once-a-day-song-request but Noctis is determined to act like the stranger isn’t affecting their daily routine whatsoever. So he gets Prompto to choose a song and if he notices Prompto choosing the quietest and shortest song he can find, Noctis doesn’t comment on it.
None of them do and if Noctis pitches his voice so low even he can barely hear himself when he sings, they don’t say a word about that either.
But the stranger, as it turns out, is both creepy and an obscenely good listener.
Because the moment Noctis stands up to head into the caravan for the night, the stranger is right in front of him with a smile that’s anything but pleasant.
“You have a beautiful voice, your Highness,” the stranger says, his tone as unwaveringly light and fanciful as always. “Truly, it’s a voice that could move any man’s heart.”
With how the stranger says it, Noctis would think the man was lying through his teeth if not for what he does next.
Silent as a wraith and quick as a passing snowflake, the stranger runs the back of his hand down Noctis’ cheek – his eyes dark with something old, something dangerous. “It’s a voice that anyone would want to keep for themselves.”
Instinctively, he jerks back but the hand is already gone and Gladio is suddenly in front of him, blocking the stranger from view. Ignis has a hand on his shoulder and Prompto stands next to him, ready to help Ignis pull him away at a moment’s notice.
The stranger is still smiling, his hands up in a pacifying gesture. “Ah, my apologies your Highness. It seems I have overstepped my boundaries.” He locks eyes with Noctis again and the darkness in his eyes briefly flickers through again but disappears even quicker. “But I do mean what I said earlier, your Highness. You truly do have a captivating voice.”
Gladio looks ready to snarl something very, very nasty in response but the stranger quickly bounds backwards (out of sword range, Noctis notices) before bowing.
“Until the morning then, gentleman. I bid you all a good night.”
With a flap of his long coat and scarf, the stranger vanishes into the caravan first.
There’s a tense moment of silence where they all wait for the other shoe to drop but when the caravan’s door remains closed, Prompto is the first to break.
“I shouldn’t have asked you to sing,” he miserably says, head hung low. “I’m sorry, Noct.”
“Don’t be,” Noctis goes, gently bumping his shoulder against Prompto’s. “And besides, I was the one who said it was fine. And it helped lighten the mood earlier, didn’t it?”
“Yeah, until the creep ruined it,” Gladio darkly mutters, arms crossed over his chest and a glower on his face.
“He would bound to ruin it eventually,” Noctis points out. “But it’s fine, he didn’t do anything to me. I’m still in one piece, aren’t I?”
Prompto still looks guilty even after Noctis had assured him for the fifth time that it wasn’t his fault and both Gladio and Ignis hover even more protectively over him that night but Noctis, even after that encounter, refuses to regret singing that night.
Because he knows—he remembers—what it is that his songs give to others.
(“When you sing, Noctis, I feel anything is possible.”)
He gives them hope.
Re: Fill: Fanning the Flames, Ifrit/Ardyn
Date: 2016-12-29 03:54 am (UTC)Anon, this was absolutely perfect! Especially Ardyn’s characterization - his boredom and poignant indifference to his own pain and everything happening around him. This is what a situation where life and death have no realistic meaning does to you.
I'm not sure why but the overall tone reminded me of one of my favorite books - ‘Kolyma Tales’ (I don’t even think it was translated to English).
Damn, A+++ writing, Anon. Thank you!
(I also secretly hope you have a continuation in mind)
Re: Fill: Four Times Noctis Made Someone Fall In Love With His Singing
Date: 2016-12-29 04:00 am (UTC)Part Three: Let's Break Noctis I Guess
Date: 2016-12-29 04:34 am (UTC)Noctis sat gingerly on his knees, body pressed as far into the hotel doorway as he could go, hands flat on the rough grain of the door. His ass was streaked raw with a criss-cross of nail marks, and a now familiar wetness oozed down his thighs. The second floor of the abandoned hotel was dark, but he felt like his naked skin was a beacon to anyone passing down below.
“Ardyn,” he said, in a hoarse, desperate voice. “You sick. Son. Of a—“
“Endearments will not sway me, Your Majesty,” said Ardyn, from within. “Not after you wounded me so.”
Noct let out a harsh breath, not quite a sob, not quite a laugh, as he heard voices swell in the diner below.
“My clothes,” he said.
“Oh, dear,” said Ardyn. “Was that what you were supposed to say? Perhaps my memory is going in my old age. I could have sworn,” and here the voice within lowered dangerously, “I told you to beg.”
Noct fell silent, shivering in the midnight chill.
“What a shame. I wonder what your dear friends will say when they find you in the morning.”
Another silence, longer this time. Then Noctis pressed his forehead to the door, mouthing the words with trembling lips. “Please,” he said, and his chest hurt with the sound of it.
“Please?”
Noct squinted his eyes shut. “Please open the door.”
“Not very creative,” Ardyn said, “but I’ll humor you, Your Majesty. Two fingers, and I’ll think about it.”
It took Noct a moment to catch the chancellor’s meaning. He sat back, wincing at the contact of his sore ass on his heels. “There isn’t any—I don’t have any—“
“You have a mouth,” Ardyn said. “Goodness knows you like to use it.”
Noct shuddered, prayed that no one below would care to walk too close, and slid his fingers into his mouth. Spit was not enough, never good enough. It dried so quickly, but with no lube and a locked door between him and the last shreds of his dignity…
Noct gently pressed his slick fingers into his entrance. Ardyn’s earlier attentions eased their passage a little, but his fingers still hurt as he thrust them in and out, crooking up to hit the spot that made him convulse with a fierce heat. He tried to stifle his moans, but it was difficult, so difficult, and he found himself whispering into the door, like a mantra.
“Please, Ardyn. Open the door, Ardyn. Please, please…”
After what felt like an eternity, the door swung inward.
Noct fell, head to the rough surface of the doormat, his fingers still thrusting and scissoring him open. He tried to crawl forward, but Ardyn pushed him back with his boot. The chancellor’s foot stayed there, shifting only enough to rest directly between Noct’s shoulderblades, as the young king shuddered and drooled onto the floor.
“You only asked for me to open the door,” Ardyn said, helpfully.
“Let me come in,” Noct gasped. “Gods, please, just—“ he shuddered again, rutting his hard cock against his knees, and came messily, moaning under Ardyn’s gaze.
“Oh, Ardyn,” said the chancellor, “you do have such a weakness for a pretty face. Welcome back, Your Majesty.”
He lifted his foot gingerly. Before Noct could rise to his hands and knees, Ardyn pulled him up by one arm and half dragged him to the foot of the bed. Noct pressed his hands on either side of his hips, trying to keep his ass from scraping on the rough floor, but was held down by Ardyn’s gloved hand.
“Now,” Ardyn said. “Let’s try again. And no biting this time, Your Majesty.” He squeezed Noct’s jaw painfully, and Noct strained to relax his throat as the chancellor pressed the head of his cock into his mouth. Ardyn started a quick rhythm, burying himself to the hilt and nearly out again, making Noct’s head rock back and his fingers knot in the sheets that trailed over the foot of the bed. As he pumped into him, Ardyn gripped Noct’s hair in both hands and twisted, holding him still.
“You see?” he said, very softly. “There’s no shame in admitting what you are, Your Majesty.” He looked down on the shivering, red-faced man beneath him and smiled. “Even if what you are is a whore.”
(AN. Should I have the bros find out, orrr?)