Prompt Post
Dec. 7th, 2016 04:06 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ffxv_kinkmod posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
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: Fill: The Wrong Kind of Family (6/7)
Date: 2017-01-21 03:49 pm (UTC)Re: Any/Prompto unknowingly seductive (model!Prompto)
Date: 2017-01-21 03:53 pm (UTC)http://minty-frans.tumblr.com/post/156049246990
Ardyn/Prompto or Ardyn/Ignis - Dirty talk, teasing
Date: 2017-01-21 03:55 pm (UTC)Brot3+Iris, Shield Iris
Date: 2017-01-21 03:57 pm (UTC)So just imagine canon, but instead of a big wall of muscle, the Prince's shield is adorable teenage girl who knows ten ways to kill you with a plushie.
idfk know where im going with this it just popped into my head and wont leave me alone
Re: the end of the line // 1/????
Date: 2017-01-21 04:11 pm (UTC)Re: Noctis/Prompto - "They all have the same face."
Date: 2017-01-21 04:28 pm (UTC)Re: Fill: The Wrong Kind of Family (6/7)
Date: 2017-01-21 04:33 pm (UTC)Re: the end of the line // 1/????
Date: 2017-01-21 04:47 pm (UTC)This was so so so good fillernon. I can't wait for more of your writing
Re: Brot3+Iris, Shield Iris
Date: 2017-01-21 05:02 pm (UTC)Gladio + Prompto- Guards harass Prom
Date: 2017-01-21 05:19 pm (UTC)+++the guards use taser or something on Prompto at one point
Re: Noctis/Prompto - "They all have the same face."
Date: 2017-01-21 05:37 pm (UTC)Thank you dear friend
Re: !Fill Prompto/Noctis - Pet Names
Date: 2017-01-21 05:48 pm (UTC)Re: Fill: The Wrong Kind of Family (7/7)
Date: 2017-01-21 06:21 pm (UTC)Gladio’s hand abruptly slams against the slatted wood behind the reporter, making the whole wall rattle as Dino jumps. He’s a hard man to catch off-guard, but right now he looks at the shield in bewilderment. “’ey, what’s goin’ on with you guys?” he asks, no small hint of nerves creeping into his voice.
The dark-haired man bares his teeth slightly as he glowers down at Dino, not caring that he is well into his personal space. “The name ‘Kidman’ ring a bell to you?” Gladio asks, his voice low and dangerous.
Dino pales. Oh, shit. “It might,” he retorts, trying to keep his cool persona in place. “Probably heard about them somewhere before; couldn’t say for sure.” He lifts his chin a little. “Who’s askin’?”
Ignis steps forward, sharply slapping the newspaper he holds with the back of his hand. “You are, apparently,” he says humorously. “This article about the dangerous crime family ran in the newspaper yesterday…and of course, special mention went to the giant ore deposit that they live on.” He turns the paper so Dino can see it better as he points to the headline. “But I suspect you knew about that already, didn’t you? After all, you wrote the article.” His knuckles brush against the name ‘Dino Ghiranze’ under the heading.
Now Dino freezes and his gaze slowly trails up. In that moment he becomes hyper-aware that he’s leaner and less toned than three of these guys, and the fourth – the scrawny blond kid – looks ready to kick his ass into next week. The other three look like they’re planning to kick it into next month. Dino swallows.
“Listen,” he says, lowering his voice slowly. “I thought you could get in and out of there before the Empire descended on the place and took everything for themselves. You know what kind of valuables are on that reserve?” His fingers tighten imperceptibly against the arm of the bench. “And here you are, yeah? You got back alright.”
Prompto comes to his other side and sits on the bench, effectively hemming Dino in on all three sides. “Do you have any idea what we went through?” he asks, and his voice is more dangerous than Dino has ever heard. The lack of friendliness in it chills him and he looks to Noctis as if to ask for help, but he finds the prince’s face impassive and his arms crossed over his chest. Dino glances around, his eyes falling on Gladio’s hand – still pressed far too close to his head for comfort. He sees the red marks around his wrist and his eyes narrow. Suddenly the pieces fall into place and he realizes why they’ve come back empty-handed.
“They grabbed you four,” he says. “And you got out alive?” The number of people who enter the Kidman family’s homestead but never return is likely far bigger than he can imagine. The number who come back? Dino can count that on one hand, and four fingers are taken up by the group in front of him.
Gods, it’s not like he sent them in there on purpose. He’s grown pretty fond of this band, but the call of the Kidman ore was just too tempting to resist. But as he watches the four of them stare him down, he wonders if the Kidmans are even worse than his report could have ever covered.
Dino’s throat clicks as he swallows. “Tell you what,” he says carefully. “I’m gonna put you four up in the hotel here for the night. My treat.” He smiles a little wanly. Gods, that’s going to be a pretty harsh blow to his finances, but he’s fairly certain if he doesn’t, Gladio might toss him in the water. And then come in after him. “Pretty sure that tonight you’re not gonna want to be on the road out…thataway.” He gestures in the general direction of the Kidman homestead. “That oughta give you enough time to lay low for the night. And if anything happens tonight, so to speak, you’re gonna see it in tomorrow’s paper.” But he’s definitely not going to be the one to report on it. Hell no. He barely managed to get away from Kidman alive the first time; he’s not stupid enough to go back. “So.” Light eyes flicker between the four. “We square?”
There’s a long pause as they all consider his offer. Gladio still looks as if he’s debating whether or not he should see how far he can throw the lanky reporter, but the prince steps in. “Yeah, we’re square,” Noctis says slowly. “But from now on? Get your own ore, Dino.”
---
The sun begins to disappear behind the water as they enter the room, shutting and locking it behind them. Gladio’s pretty sure that the Kidmans are still tangling with the Empire – the crime boss losing the prince and his retainers was likely going to piss Niflheim off, and Kidman would be lucky if all they did was take the land in return. But he’s still on-edge from earlier and he knows he likely won’t sleep tonight. Might as well make himself useful and keep watch.
Prompto immediately throws himself face-down on one of the two beds, groaning at how soft the mattress feels under him. “I could sleep right here,” he murmurs drowsily, but Ignis shakes his head.
“Come here, please,” he says. “I need to check you again and ensure that they didn’t give you a concussion earlier.”
The blond whines but manages to drag himself over to Ignis. The adviser gives him a brief but thorough once-over and determines that he’s likely fine. “Does it still hurt?” he asks, brushing his fingers over the bruise.
Prompto winces at the touch. “A little,” he admits. “Not too bad, though. They couldn’t knock any sense into me!”
The opening is there, and Noctis takes it. “Sounds about right,” he teases. “Good to know nothing’s changed.”
The gunner pouts gloriously and seems about ready to return fire, but Ignis cuts it off by pressing a pack of ibuprofen into his hand and directing him towards the water pitcher on the desk in the corner. “That should take the edge off of it,” he says. “I’d say you’re fine to sleep. I highly recommend that you do so after you shower.”
Prompto sits on the edge of one of the beds and interlaces his fingers. He hesitates, and Ignis is pretty sure he knows why. Even though it would just be for long enough to get clean and scrub off any evidence of their ordeal, it’s still a closed door and isolation from the rest of them – more of what had happened earlier. The adviser sighs softly and acquiesces – this is something they’ll have to deal with together sooner or later, but for tonight he can let it slide.
“I suppose,” he says, “it would be just as feasible for us to rise earlier and shower then.” When Prompto looks up at him with relief in his eyes, Ignis plays it off to allow him to keep his pride. “I can occasionally be known to let these things pass,” he says with a small smile. “You should both get some rest.” He glances at Noctis, who’s already made himself comfortable on top of the comforter and is practically smothering himself with the pillow. “Heaven’s sake, you’re going to suffocate like that. Roll over at least.”
To nobody’s real surprise, Prompto joins Noctis on the first bed. The prince easily slings an arm around his waist and at least turns his head sideways so he’s not completely buried in the pillow; he’s buried in Prompto’s neck instead. The gunner relaxes exponentially at the touch and the tension releases from his neck and shoulders. He’s able to close his eyes and it’s not long before his breathing steadies in sleep.
Ignis lets out a slow breath. Well, that’s two taken care of. He fetches the first aid kit and two small towels and makes his way over to the shield, who is still settled in the corner and watching every inch of the room.
But he does look up as Ignis settles into the window seat. “Hey.” His arms are crossed over his broad chest and Ignis notices that he has his wrists tucked away. The adviser cocks an eyebrow and fixes him with a look.
“The younger ones are asleep,” he says. “You don’t have to hide it anymore.” He extends one hand to Gladio, the other hand spreading one towel over his lap. “Let me see.”
Gladio sighs and finally gives in. The burn on his wrists has been uncomfortable for most of the day, but he’s ignored it up to this point because they had bigger problems to worry about. He lays his hand in Ignis’ and lets the other man guide him so he’s over the towel. “It’s fine,” he grumbles, but it’s mostly noise and they both know better.
Ignis uncaps a bottle of water and gently pours it over Gladio’s skin. “Clearly not,” he says at the resulting wince.
“Hold still a moment.” He sets the bottle down and uses the other towel to wipe away the excess water. Just as quickly he uncaps the antibiotic gel and rubs it over the abrasion as gently as possible.
He’s halfway through bandaging it when Gladio curses. “Dammit,” he says, though there’s little venom to it. “Iggy, when are you gonna let someone take care of you?”
The adviser glances up at him across his glasses and quirks an eyebrow. “I am unharmed,” he says, reaching for Gladio’s other wrist. “My abrasions were chafing rather than the actual rope burn that you ended up with.”
“That’s not what I mean and you know it.” Gladio turns his hand and catches Ignis’ wrist. He’s trying to keep his voice low to let the others sleep, but frustration bubbles up.
Ignis tries to think of the best way to steer this conversation. “Our priority is to Noctis,” he says, but it rings hollow because he knows Gladio knows that. Repeating it is useless; the Amicitia family knows this duty better than most others.
“Yeah? Like I don’t know that. Doesn’t mean I can’t worry about you, too.” His grip tightens minutely around Ignis’ wrist. “You know if it comes down to it, my duty is to protect Noctis.” Ignis looks like he wants to argue, to protest that of course he knows that, but Gladio cuts him off. “It was still damned hard to have to watch that guy manhandle you.” He shoves his free hand through his hair. “Fuck, he had a knife at your throat and Noct was frozen because this guy had us all by the balls.” Bitterly he chuckles. “None of us were protecting anybody today.”
“While we all came out alive, it was…not our best performance,” Ignis agrees. He swallows and tries not to think about the way Noct had stared at him in horror when Kidman grabbed him. “I think we will have to carefully evaluate future errands that we do for others.”
Gladio nods shortly. “We’ve gotta watch each other, too,” he says. “Gettin’ split up like that and overpowered was what did us in.” This time when Ignis reaches for his other wrist, he lets him. Just as carefully as the first time, Ignis cleans and bandages the wound; it’s mostly superficial and will heal in time.
To Ignis’ surprise, once Gladio’s other wrist is bandaged he’s being pulled against the other man’s chest. “Be more careful,” he says. “I don’t want to ever have to see you like that again.” One hand rests on the back of Ignis’ head, like he’s afraid if he lets go the other man will be taken away again. “If he hadn’t been threatening Noct and Prompto I might have broken his nose for you.” Gladio pauses briefly. “And a few other things.”
“I’m flattered.” And truly, he is. He rests his cheek against the swordsman’s chest for a long moment. “Though I do not find breaking things to be my style, the sentiment is the same. Perhaps a well-placed heel on his toes would suffice. See how well he runs after that.” Gladio chuckles in return, and for the first time since arriving Ignis feels him relax. “Will you sleep tonight?”
Gladio seems surprised by the question and hesitates before answering. “Probably not,” he admits. “I’d rather someone stay awake in case they come back.”
Ignis nods his understanding. “Agreed,” he says. “I shall stay up with you.” Gladio wants to protest, but if he’s being honest, he’s grateful for the company. He’s even more grateful to have Ignis nearby and know that the man is here and safe. Instead he shuts his mouth and nods.
They’ve gone through quite a few cups of coffee between them by the time the sun rises and they’re burnt out. But it’s worth it to see the other two sleeping peacefully through the night, safe and finding solace in each other.
And when the paper’s dropped off at their door with the headline “Kidman Ore Ring Broken”? That’s just the icing on the cake.
...
(OP, I hope this is everything you've wanted! I absolutely loved this prompt to pieces and I had so much fun writing it for you. If you don't mind, I'll probably post this on my AO3 (I found a few typos as I posted it ugh), so you can find it there as well under the title! :D Thanks for the awesome prompt!)
Re: Fill: The Wrong Kind of Family (7/7)
Date: 2017-01-21 06:31 pm (UTC)Thank you for filling my prompt! I'll be sure to leave a kudos on Ao3 :-)
Re: AU - Ignis & Gladio are from Niflheim, Prompto is their MT
Date: 2017-01-21 06:34 pm (UTC)okay, this kind of breaks my heart, becuase that means gladio and ignis don't talk to prompto ;_;
Re: Fill: The Wrong Kind of Family (7/7)
Date: 2017-01-21 06:39 pm (UTC)OP here
Date: 2017-01-21 07:37 pm (UTC)As for Cor, love the idea! Kinda fits with him not playing politics as much as others and a reason for his estrangement. And the part with the Argentums totally fits, considering we never see his parents in the FFX universe.
Really looking forward to seeing this filled!
Regis Lucis Caelum/Queen Aulea- commoner queen
Date: 2017-01-21 07:39 pm (UTC)Re: FILL: Luna/Gentiana Cold as ice!
Date: 2017-01-21 07:56 pm (UTC)Any/Noctis, A good hard fuck & a worried Mama Iggy
Date: 2017-01-21 09:59 pm (UTC)Fill: A Weaver's Hands 1/?
Date: 2017-01-21 10:11 pm (UTC)-----
Aulea was a resourceful girl.
When she was six, she learned how to pick apart the threads of her old blue dress to let down the hem another two inches, how to hide the string that tied up her hair, and how to wash her face in the West Park fountain in the early morning before the guards came. She would walk three miles to the closest public school, where she smiled and laughed and ate her free dining hall lunches with the careful slowness of one who did not want anyone to know she was hungry. She raced off by Ruby Street on her way out, where she would slip in the back door of Penwell’s Fine Cloth & Tailors and spend hours untangling ribbons, listening to Mr. Penwell teach his fidgety assistant how to tailor clothes for the nobility. Then she would collect a few credits and run to the tunnels.
Trains used to run there, once upon a time. Now, the alcove where passengers used to stand in wait to be ferried off to the Citadel belonged to Aulea and her mother.
She would clean the worst of the mess, first. Then she’d urge her mother to eat, or drink, or open her eyes, and when that was done, she’d climb up into the light of the tunnel steps and do her homework on the abandoned open-air platform.
When she was six-and-a-half, Aulea borrowed a shovel from the gardener in West Park who always smiled at her on her way to school, and she learned how to dig.
She was fine, after. She knew she was fine. Her mother had told her, over and over, “You are a clever girl, Aulea. A resourceful girl. You don’t bow your head to no one.” So she kept her chin eye, and her eyes bright, and her voice rang out in the gardens above her home clear and true.
When Aulea was seven, Mr. Penwell allowed her to come into the shop and stitch lines in working class women’s dresses. Aulea was a hand with a needle, and she found the work comforting. Only she could control how small the stitches were, how straight the lines, how the folds of the cloth draped over each other to sweep the floor like ripples on the park fountain. She would sing, sometimes, little songs from her mother’s home beyond Insomnia, and Mr. Penwell’s assistant would lend a low voice to hers on quiet afternoons.
She dreamed of one day learning how to make cloth this fine, create her own clothes that even the King and Queen would stumble over themselves to buy. It was a silly dream, but it did help to pass the long, quiet hours before sunset.
The day the monster boy came, however, was hardly quiet at all.
“I don’t know why I have to be here!” The voice in the waiting room was young, like Aulea, but plaintive, with the hint of a drawl that she was starting to associate with the upper class. She could hear soothing noises coming from the other room, and then the mortifying thump of a foot slamming into the floor.
“I don’t care!” the voice cried again. “He said he would come with me, and he didn’t. I can be fitted at home just as well as here.”
The assistant sighed and got to her feet, giving Aulea a familiar grimace. “Little princeling,” she whispered. Aulea smiled.
“Children,” she said, shrugging. The assistant grinned at her and disappeared round the corner, cooing in her best customer service voice.
It didn’t go well. Five minutes later, the assistant stormed in, hands flapping like the feathers of a ruffled bird.
“Little princeling, indeed!” she hissed, and flounced into the back room.
Aulea set down the gown she was working on, curious. She’d only heard children make such a fuss on the first day of school, when the little ones were too scared of leaving their parents to appreciate what they were there to learn.
Despite Mr. Penwell’s warnings not to disrupt noble customers, Aulea inched her way to the door and peered into the waiting room.
The voice belonged to a boy, standing alone in the room against the wall, arms crossed, face like a stormcloud. He was about Aulea’s age, with fine, dark hair and skin so pale she was certain he had to walk around under a parasol all day. His clothes were exquisitely made in black silk, and his expression was so dour that she had to laugh.
He looked up sharply, and caught her eye. For a moment, he looked like he was about to be angry, but then his brows knit in something more like curiosity.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“That’s a way to say hello,” Aulea said. The boy flushed pink and looked away. “Aw, don’t you be cross, boy.” Aulea couldn’t help but smile. How funny, that a child so well off could look so grim! “I ain’t your mother. You can learn how to talk respectable on your own time.”
“Don’t call me a boy,” the boy said, archly. “You’re my age. And you don’t have to teach me anything, you’re common.”
“Common?” Aulea bridled. Resourceful and clever as she was, she didn't take kindly to insult. “I ain’t common. Common is stamping your foot when good folks want to make you look nice. Common is being a child long past the time you’re meant to be a man. You’re as common as rainwater, little boy. I’m as common as the moon.”
The boy stared, slackjawed, twin spots of fury high on his cheeks. She half expected him to fly at her, but instead, he closed his mouth and grinned.
“Goodness,” he said, sounding much less like a brat than he did half a minute ago. “You’re something else.”
“I’ve a right to be, don’t I?” Aulea said, still angry. “Don’t you laugh at me.”
“I’m not, I’m not!” The boy raised his hands in surrender, and stepped forward. “I’m sorry. I was rude. My name’s… my name’s Regis. What’s yours?” He extended a hand to her. Aulea looked at it warily, as though it were a snake about to strike.
“Aulea, if it please you,” she said, and sank into a wobbly curtsey. Regis giggled, and she took his hand.
“It’s very good to meet you, Aulea,” he said.
“There,” she told him, smiling once more. “Don’t it feel nice to treat people like people?”
Regis opened his mouth again, and Aulea laughed in his face.
Re: Fill: A Weaver's Hands 1/?
Date: 2017-01-21 10:13 pm (UTC)Re: Fill: Alone Time
Date: 2017-01-21 10:27 pm (UTC)Re: Fill: Frozen And Unscathed, no pairings, serious injury 2/2
Date: 2017-01-21 10:48 pm (UTC)Gladio/Prompto, oral fixation
Date: 2017-01-21 10:57 pm (UTC)+ Gladio gives Prompto head
+ Dirty talk is involved