Prompt Post

[ffxv_kinkmod]

 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:

• 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.

 

Comments

Retrieving the fallen king

[(Anonymous)]

I just saw this absolutely heartbreaking (yet beautiful) fanart on Twitter (https://twitter.com/istehlurvz/status/827216853739069440) and now I've got FEELS, you guys. So many feels.

Re: Retrieving the fallen king

[(Anonymous)]

Seconding. Pile on all the angsty feels ;_;

FILL (With two endings!) Re: Retrieving the fallen king

[(Anonymous)]

I too, like to suffer.

------

When the king's brothers in arms stepped into the throne room of the Citadel, their boots echoed in the resounding emptiness. Prompto wondered at that, at how their footsteps seemed to be swallowed by the vast hall, their breaths muffled, the beat of their hearts rendered insignificant in the face of what lay on the throne.

Prompto stumbled when they reached the dais, but Gladio never faltered. His shoulders were set in a straight line, his head high, his eyes focused on a spot just above the throne. Prompto wished he could have that resolve. He could feel his hands shaking, wondered if they'd ever stop. The world outside was already starting to go grey with the light of dawn, but the only thing that glittered in the throne room was the black metal on the hilt of Noctis' father's sword.

Gladio’s voice seemed to come from a long way away. “Ignis. Prompto. I need you to hold his shoulders. The sword is stuck in the throne.”

Prompto moved automatically, almost in a daze, and placed shaking fingers on his best friend’s corpse. He held the body steady, but Gladio’s hands on the hilt of King Regis’ sword were still. He looked up, desperate to know what was taking him so long, and saw Ignis standing at the foot of the stairs.

“I can’t,” said the king’s advisor. “Don’t ask me to do this, Gladio.”

“Right.” Gladio nodded at Prompto, who pushed the body back against the throne, and heaved the sword free. The sound of the blade passing through the king’s chest sent a full shudder through Prompto, and he closed his eyes as the body shifted forward under his hands. He let go, and the body slumped. That was wrong, somehow—he reached out to right it again, but Gladio placed a hand on his and shook his head in warning.

King Regis’ sword made a faint scraping sound as Gladio gently lowered it to the ground. Ignis climbed the stairs behind him, placed a hand on an arm that was jerked away. Prompto opened his mouth to say something, but Ignis had already dragged his hands along the arm of the throne. He ghosted his fingers over the face of the body that had been their brother.

“I admit, I hoped—“ he stopped, and drew back. His lips twisted in a painful grimace, and Gladio placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah, Iggy. I know,” Gladio said. “Let’s carry him down.”

It didn’t have to take all three of them. The body was so thin, weakened by ten years of exposure to the crystals magic, and the clothes that had fit so well on a 20-year-old frame were loose on a man dead at 30. But they helped all the same, Ignis somewhat awkwardly, lifting the body of their king off the throne.

Gladio positioned Noctis in his arms, and the usually stern, immovable lines of his face softened. He looked suddenly young, and lost, the legs of his friend dangling over an arm, the dark-haired head pressed to his shoulder as though in sleep. Gladio’s lips parted, and his breath dragged from his chest with a broken sound that made Prompto turn away.

“It’s done,” said the shield of the king. “Let’s lay him to rest.”





SUDDENLY, AN ALTERNATE ENDING APPEARS:


At Gladio’s words, Ignis turned sharply, facing the back of the throne. He opened his mouth to cry out a warning, but then a high, overwhelming whine reverberated through the room, making the very walls tremble. Then it stopped, and the resulting pulse of magic that burst forth from the body in Gladio’s arms sent their limbs into a spasm of pain. Prompto dropped to his knees, Ignis’ hands jerked back, and Gladio, Gladio let the body slip from his grasp and collapse, with a sickening sound of flesh and cloth, onto the floor. He cried out, and knelt with trembling legs, trying to gather the body into his arms.

“What the hell just happened?” Prompto asked. Gladio made a choking sound and released the King, backing dangerously close to the edge of the dais. “What?”

“Lingering magic?” Ignis asked. “The crystal, healing the earth?” He pushed Gladio’s hands out of the way and reached for the King again, and frowned. “He was cold before.” His hands shifted, clinical and efficient, to the wound in the chest. “Wet. Should my fingers be wet? What is this?” He lifted his fingers for inspection. The blood on his hands was bright, bright red.

Prompto pulled the body into a sitting position, and Ignis gasped as a sound slipped from the King’s open mouth. Prompto grimaced. “This happens, when a body's been dead for a while. We’ve heard it before.” If he thought of what he held as a body, not as Noctis, it was easier to do what he had to do. He popped open the front of the waistcoat, to reveal an open, fresh wound. New blood seeped over the drying stains of the original cut, and the skin around the wound was red hot. Prompto looked from Ignis to Gladio in bewilderment.

Ignis pressed his hands to the King’s mouth once more. “Breath. Gladio, Prompto. He’s breathing. I can feel him breathing.”

This seemed to pull Gladio from whatever daze had overtaken him and into immediate action. He pulled out an elixir, cracking the fragile casing directly over the wound, gripping the shoulder of his old friend with white knuckled fingers. For a moment, the wound continued to bleed sluggishly, but Prompto and Gladio could already see the flesh of the King’s chest stitching shut. Prompto was shaking in earnest now. He loosened the collar of the King’s robes, unhitched the heavy shoulder cape, pressed gentle fingers to a too-warm neck—

Noctis Lucis Caelum opened eyes that shone with the brilliant violet of magic, pitched forward, and coughed blood onto the marble floor before the throne.


----

SO YEP THERE WE GO.

Re: FILL (With two endings!) Re: Retrieving the fallen king

[(Anonymous)]

OP - Oh man, oh man. THANK YOU for filling my prompt! And thank you also for the surprise happy ending!

Re: FILL (With two endings!) Re: Retrieving the fallen king

[(Anonymous)]

*Squealing* I love happy endings. Thank you that was awesome!