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

Fill!

[(Anonymous)]

It's difficult to pinpoint when it started, to even dissect the nature of what he feels except that it's palpable, frightening, and overpowering sometimes. Noctis isn't sure how to properly classify it, but it's a bone-deep feeling that distracts him too much sometimes when his eyes always fall on the shape of Ignis' mouth, tracing over the distinct curve of his top lip, the pronounced dip of it under his nose and the way the bottom half of his mouth is only minutely fuller-looking by comparison.

There were things he'd never noticed before nor hard paid exclusive attention to, but all Noctis can do at the moment is stare at them as the older teen goes through a rudimentary explanation of some math problem Noctis had pretended to get wrong. He's been tutoring him regularly for years now, but only recently has Noctis had an exceptional amount of difficulty trying to follow along. At first, he'd chalked it up to pure exhaustion, his body embroiled in normal hormone-charged lethargy and fatigue as he outgrows his bones faster than he can keep up with. He'd then blamed it on too much training and not enough time decompressing and relaxing, leaving his mind to wander a lot more than usual -his biggest distraction in the form of his advisor and chamberlain, Ignis.

He can't exactly figure out why of all people he keeps fixating on him lately except that he's found himself staring at his face a lot and extracting new bits of information that he'd probably filed away as inconsequential and unnecessary before, but now, he can't seem to ignore the play of light across Ignis' irises, the way the shade erratically shifts between blue and green, nor the long slope of his nose or the precision in the curve of his eyebrows that lines up with the top rim of his glasses. There are too many small details to digest, each one more fascinating than the next.

Most people probably wouldn't notice he has faint moles on his face, the color fairly easily blending in to his skin, but Noctis mentally connects the dots as Ignis draws a diagram on the paper before him, lines lost to the blurred motion of his sketching. Noctis can only fixate his gaze across Ignis' smooth forehead, unaware he's even unconsciously craning his head forward until Ignis stops drawing completely and turns his gaze upwards.

"Is there an ink stain on my forehead?" Ignis asks him, expressing some rare self-consciousness while his fingers reach out to rub the same spot that links up to Noctis' line of sight.

Noctis' eyes immediately flick downwards, ignoring the way heat crawls along the sides of his neck as he forces himself to concentrate on the paper between them.

"Just counting the wrinkles growing there from you worrying so much."

That seems to draw a slightly bemused look from Ignis who taps the diagram with his pen tip.

"I'd have far less if you weren't constantly testing my patience."

That does make Noctis feel slightly guilty, well aware he's eating into Ignis' personal time here. He probably has other duties he should be taking care of, and it's not as though he really needs the extra help in math. He'd been getting straight A's all semester, but he hadn't wanted to spend the evening alone again, trapped inside his apartment with only troubling memories to keep him company. It hadn't been easy living completely alone since he'd moved out of the Citadel, and while he thought he'd be happier this way, the loneliness was often palpable in the evenings without the bustling of servants around him or even his father's stern voice to keep him company.

He tries to follow Ignis' explanation more closely this time, though his mind keeps erratically scrambling its own thoughts around, and all Noctis ends up focusing on is Ignis' mouth again, the way each half hypnotically touches the other languidly before separating -following the shapes of the words that come out. His skin feels hotter and itchier under his uniform the more he stares, and there's sweat growing between his fingers, dampening the web of skin there and leaving Noctis to discreetly wipe them on his pant legs.

"Noct?"

Ignis' voice drags him back to the present, the sound of it softened with concern as Ignis studies him closely.

"Did you listen to anything I just said?"

"Yeah, yeah," Noctis brushes him off even though he's struggling to remember even a single word of it right now.

His heart won't still in his chest, playing a frantic beat across the inside of his rib cage as Ignis starts up again, and this time, Noctis' eyes follows the long temples of his glasses, tracing along the metal length of it to where they casually rest on his ears. There's a darker mole on the shell of his ear, the color starkly contrasting the rest of the pale skin around it, and Noctis' fingers are twitching again with the eerie urge to touch it -press his fingertip and move along the shape of the shell just to feel the texture of the marked skin beneath. Would it be any different than touching anywhere else on his body?

But he blots that thought out hastily just as quickly as it forms, knowing it's a reckless and errant urge, one that has no business existing because this is Ignis right in front of him. Not anyone else. They've known each other for years now -have grown up together as practically brothers only with hierarchy wedging them apart. Under any other circumstance, they would never have met nor had any business knowing one another, but right now, they're indelibly tied to each other's fates.

It's something that leaves him feeling more scattered than he'd like to admit because he's always wanted to traipse across those boundaries between prince and chamberlain and to just have a more casual bond with him -call them friends, if he wants to be generous. But Ignis holds him at arm's length at all times and only ever touches him to dress his wounds or fuss over him when he's sick.

That distance has never felt more palpable than it does now with Ignis obliviously rattling off some explanation while Noctis can't bring himself to stop letting his eyes wander where his hands can't, feeling a mess of impulses inside before recklessness wins him over. In an instant, unguarded and unfocused, his hands reach out, and he touches both Ignis' ears at once to playfully unhook his glasses from them.

"Noct-" Ignis begins warningly, an edge of irritation laced into his voice that Noctis ignores as he removes the glasses more fully from his face but not without briefly and indulgently sliding his middle and index finger along the impossibly soft surface of his ears.

Both Ignis' hands rise to try and physically stop him, but Noctis moves too quickly, stealing his glasses and plunking them down on his own face before blinking quizzically behind them. To his surprise, Ignis' vision isn't as bad as he'd always thought. He actually doesn't have that much trouble seeing with his glasses on as his eyes flick around the room quickly before landing squarely on Ignis' annoyed expression.

"I understand these lessons are very dull for you compared to warp striking up the Citadel, but that's no excuse to snatch my glasses."

His fingers try to reach out and grab them again, but Noctis moves out of the way fast enough, unable to help giving Ignis a small cheeky grin.

"You sure you even need these? Here I thought you were practically blind all these years, but you were just using them for looks, weren't you?"

A soft sigh leaves Ignis' lips as he tries to snatch the glasses once more to no avail. "Yes, I do. Even though my vision hasn't degraded that much, I would rather see things as clearly as possible."

That sentiment is so undeniably Ignis that Noctis doesn't even question it, but he does scramble out of the chair and move around to the other side of the table, holding the glasses hostage on his face. It's been years since he last played around with Ignis like this, remembering all his attempts as a child had been rebuffed.

No matter what toys he'd brought to Ignis, he never acquiesced in playing with him at all, preferring to stick to his duty of watching over him. It had left him feeling disappointed sometimes, though he had managed to at least goad him into a game of hide and go seek on more than one occasion -a game Ignis was an expert at because he always knew exactly where to find him.

"How long are you going to hold my glasses captive? I'm only here for another hour, and we need to finish going over your lesson."

"Don't know," Noctis replies with a shrug, "I kind of like them. Maybe I should start wearing fake glasses, too."

"I told you. They're not fake."

He sounds so offended by the insinuation that Noctis almost wants to laugh. Imagine Ignis actually doing something out of pure vanity instead of practicality. It couldn't hurt for him to let loose once in a while, knowing it must physically hurt him sometimes to be so uptight.

"Noct-," Ignis intones warningly, holding his hand out towards him.

In response, Noctis nudges the glasses up the bridge of his nose in a perfect imitation of the way Ignis always does it before mimicking one of his standing poses, too, arms crossed stiffly over his chest and face squared into the most serious expression he can muster. The whole effect has Ignis raising an eyebrow in his direction before he marches right over to him to pull the glasses free from his face.

"I do not look like that."

Again, the amount of offense his voice is weirdly endearing, and Noctis smiles to himself before catching an unfiltered glimpse of Ignis' face without his glasses on. It's only a brief flash, but it's enough to make his heart lodge itself into the base of his throat as he openly stares at how warmer and richer the color of his eyes are without the lens from his glasses in the way. His brows also look more pronounced and austere where they rest over them, unequivocally mesmerizing even if Noctis can't quite articulate to himself why it's even that appealing to him at the moment. He just knows that it is, his body having a base reaction to the sheer sight that leaves him embroiled in more thoughts and questions, too much for him to cope with at once.

Ignis stares back at him in concern before idly reaching out to comb his fingers through his fringe, absently fixing it for Noctis, and the touch feels so raw and warm against his skin that the rest of his body flares up without warning, his nerves twisting in on themselves all across the surface of his skin while Noctis has to consciously remind himself to breathe.

When the fingers withdraw, the absence of them leaves him feeling naked and exposed, desperate for a little more even though he knows he won't ask or chase the touch at all. There's no point in doing so when he knows whatever is going on with him right now is something that wouldn't be reciprocated. At best, Ignis might see through him and acknowledge it. However, it definitely feels like it's pulsing more and more strongly everyday to the point where he might eventually burst out of his flesh if he keeps ignoring it.

His feet absently carry him behind Ignis as he slides back into the seat next to him, and he's all too aware of the sound of his own breathing, the open-mouthed exhalations that suddenly seem too loud in the stillness of the room. In his peripheral, Ignis returns his attention to the math book, seemingly ignoring him as he concentrates on the lesson, but Noctis notes the tension around his jaw and neck like he's also aware that the atmosphere around them has shifted without warning.

"Can we now return to implicit and inverse function theorems, or do you intend on distracting me once again?"

"I'm listening."

Sort of. As usual, it's always his eyes that do the listening for him, once again following the dance of words that are loosened from between Ignis' lips and the casual, nonchalant way his tongue wets the surface of his mouth when its dry. Both things that shouldn't affect him at all, but Noctis feels like his bones want to writhe from inside his skin each time, and his pulse just won't stop vibrating erratically. His mind replays the sensation of having Ignis' fingers brush over his forehead and touch his hair a thousand times with obsessive fury, and he's left trying to hold it together externally until Ignis pushes the pen in his hands, fingers absently tangling with his for a moment.

That's when Noctis' snaps to attention, reminded how sweat-damp his own skin must feel at the moment, and he ducks his head like he wants to disappear before his fingers shakily try and solve the problem before him. It all comes to him unconsciously, the theorems he'd impressed into his mind enough times from studying, and for all that people call him lazy and unmotivated, he does retain things better than he lets on. He doesn't even have to think before the pen starts scratching across the paper, and Ignis watches him curiously.

"I'm starting to wonder if you even need any tutoring at all. You solved that in far less time than I thought it'd take you."

Noctis tries to shrug off the feat casually, feeling like he's being dissected once more as Ignis eyes him. Is he that obvious? Maybe he should have pretended to struggle a bit, but his own pride won't let him sometimes.

"Must be the work of my naggy tutor."

"Must be," Ignis replies, though he doesn't look convinced he had any hand in it.

After a moment, he starts to pack up all their materials and prepare to leave, though it's clear from his expression that something is puzzling him, the pieces of a mystery haphazardly floating somewhere in his head as he carefully sets everything inside his bag. Noctis doesn't deign to ask him about it, only absently trailing after him to the door, though he pauses when Ignis abruptly turns around to face him from far too close.

His eyes pierce through him unrepentant this time, and Noctis unconsciously braces himself, unsure what to really expect.

"You don't …have to pretend. If you need the company, you can simply ask."

Those words are not as startling as the way he says them, that soft compassionate tone that he's unused to hearing from Ignis but welcomes nevertheless. There's something very soothing about the lilting timber of those words, and Noctis finds himself as touched by them as he is embarrassed, his own eyes immediately darting away.

"'night, Ignis," is all he can bring himself to murmur in response even though his body is now throbbing frantically in place with the same unnamed emotion that's been coursing through him this entire evening. It feels wholly undeniable at that moment, and he can't stop from wanting to ask Ignis to stay a bit longer even though the words don't make it out.

The door shutting seals that thought completely, feeling final, yet the implication is there. Ignis would come by anytime if he just asks. Now, if only Noctis could ever bring himself to do it.

===

[ Don't know if this is what you wanted, but I tried a bit! ]

Re: Fill!

[(Anonymous)]

Oh my god, this is so perfect! Thank you for this. Do you think you'll be continuing it? I seriously adore your writing style and how they interacted with each other *_*

Re: Fill!

[(Anonymous)]

loved it!!! not op but i really enjoyed their interaction and the style.