Prompt Post
Dec. 7th, 2016 04:06 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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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: Fill: Noctis/Prompto - in somnis veritas (In sleep there is truth) 2/?
Date: 2017-01-09 12:13 pm (UTC)Gladio found out next, because Gladio could read Ignis like his favorite harlequin romance novel, the pages worn from how many times he had turned them. It only took the announcement of the Imperial forces above them for Ignis to flinch, and that was more telling than if Ignis had said something out loud.
Ignis didn't flinch.
When he sliced into one of the Troopers, he noticed the way Ignis seemed to avoid some of the troops, and that was the second red flag.
“You hurt, Iggy?” Gladio asked as he sliced through the mechanical shell of the enemy, wincing as hot black grease hit his face. Those bastards always left so much of a goddamn mess on his blade, and Gladio loved that wherever Noctis’s magic came from seemed to clean the slick fluid right off. Still, that never helped with rubbing it off his skin.
Ignis darted his eyes towards Noctis and Prompto. They were just a little ways away, easily barreling through a few stragglers of the snipers. The enemies weren't even able to hold their weapons up at that point, so Gladio wasn't too worried. Noctis had easily handled worse, and at this point so had Prompto.
“Gladio, I need you to do something,” Ignis said, standing closer to Gladio’s side, his back to the Prince. There was something pinching at his cheeks, a sallow color that made Gladio worried Ignis was coming down with something. “And please… don't call attention to it.”
Gladio furrowed his eyebrows but nodded to Ignis. “Sure, what is it?”
Ignis looked down at the ground, his green eyes staring at the decimated trooper at their feet. It was still twitching; the electricity hadn't been gorked yet. That was weird-- usually when he cut them in half it killed their electrical current. Huh. Weird.
“Sure, what is it Specs?”
“Gladio…”
Gladio didn’t like where this was going. Ignis’s mouth was drawn down in a frown and he was holding his daggers in front of him like a safety blanket. It was almost like he expected the trooper Gladio had cut in half would rise like a zombie from one of Noct’s games.
That was making him more nervous than he cared to admit. Ignis didn’t worry. Ignis didn’t run his sentences off, because that was so unlike Ignis. The guy knew every word he wanted to say and already had the perfect reply to answer with. Yet in the field of broken machinery, surrounded by black engine fuel spit out across the grass, Ignis was… well, Ignis looked nervous.
“Iggy, what’s going on? What do you need?”
Ignis looked up at him and then back down to the cut down trooper. “Take off its helmet. And… Don’t make any noise. I need to see if it is the same, that I’m not going mad.”
Iggy, going mad? What the hell was going on?
Gladio put his hand out and pulled his clean sword from the ether, taking comfort in its weight and perfection in his hand. “Is it gunna come back to life?”
Ignis shook his head. “I rather doubt it. But… you may not like what is underneath.”
Well, if that wasn’t cryptic as fuck. After spending so many years listening to Ignis talk, cryptic Iggy was the worst Iggy. It made him nervous, like someone was walking over his damn grave.
“Okay, Iggy. If you say so.” He hoped the other man would understand his seriousness, and Gladio leaned down and ran his fingers over the crack in the helmet. When he had fought with the trooper he had taken the heavy, dull side to the back of its head, causing the metal to crack like an eggshell. Sometimes it helped him short-circuit them, just like cutting them in half did the trick, and he should have known there was something not so right with that. MTs had their core in their chests. The only reason they even had heads was so that it looked vaguely human, or at least that was what he was taught in the Academy. People were more willing to follow orders and obey the MTs when they looked like people.
Fucking people.
Of course it shouldn’t have surprised him, but it did-- because that thing looked like--
“What the fuck is this--some kind of joke?” Gladio couldn’t look at it because its lips were trembling and that black sludge, the warm black sludge he had called engine grease and oil, it had never been that at all. It wasn’t the right color for humans and yet now that he could see it sliding out of that fucking face, dripping down its nose and ears and holy shit, was it crying black blood?
And Gladio could only stare back at Ignis, who only raised his hand over his mouth as explanation, holding out his own dagger.
“Is it-- fuck.”
The thing drew a jagged breath, and Gladio looked away from Ignis and back down to Prompto, because it was fucking Prompto, wasn’t it?
But Prompto was on the other side of the field with Noctis, and the two were busy laughing and shooting off a few rounds as target practice. The MTs were all dead now, and that was what they were…. Weren’t they? They were fucking dead, because at one point they were alive and they had the same fucking face as Prompto and Prompto was alive and breathing and laughing as he wrapped one hand around Noctis’s waist to pull him close while the other showed the prince how to best aim and fuck.
“I..is that…?”
Ignis shook his head. Not even Iggy had any idea what the answer for this could possibly be.
The thing, that poor, fucking pitiful thing, hacked and cried silently as black bubbled out of its mouth. Gladio couldn’t look away-- he had seen Prompto’s entire body over the years and knew it like he knew his own. And seeing it laid out in MT armor at his feet, cut in half and gasping for air as its skin began to burn and then crack in the sunlight...
Gladio needed to put it out of its misery. He couldn’t watch--he just couldn’t fucking do it.
He looked up to Prompto, at the way his hand was slowly snaking into the hem of Noctis’s cargo pants and the way Noct could only laugh in response as his shot took a curve unexpectedly. That was Prompto, snorting and laughing when Noctis tried to punch him with one hand, his other making the gun disappear into the void.
That was Prompto.
This thing, this fucking thing wearing Prom’s face… this thing with its red eyes, gurgling on black daemon blood…
Gladio needed it to stop. He needed it like he needed air in his lungs or a sword in his hands.
He could feel it, now. When he slid the sword down to the junction where that thing’s neck met its head. It was the snapping of bones and the squirt of blood. After having spent years knowing the feel of killing monsters, animals, daemons and machinery…
He had never killed a person.
(Except he had, hadn't he? And each one of them wore the smattering of freckles on their nose that Prompto did.)
“We say nothing. Not now. Not like this.”
And Gladio agreed, because Ignis knew just as well as Gladio did that something like this would destroy Prompto. The man was strong, had become so much stronger in their journey together, but Gladio could see the cracks in his mask, just like he could see the cracks in the MT’s helmet.
That night they stayed in Old Lestallum in a motel with two beds to a room, and Gladio fucked Prompto harder than he usually did. He was a soft lover, a tender lover, a big fucking teddy bear of a lover who was gentle and delicate with his too big hands… yet that night he bit Prompto on the shoulder until he bled, only feeling a sinking in his gut when he saw the red blood pooling in his teeth marks.
“What’s gotten into you, big guy?” Prompto hissed, though it wasn't accusatory. Part of Gladio wished it was, that way he could think something different, to come up with some kind of blame.
“Sorry. Just,” Gladio grunted as he withdrew, making sure to be more gentle. Prompto wasn't at fault, this had nothing (everything) to do with him. “Just a long day.”
Prompto rubbed at the indents on his shoulder and swore, but he turned to Gladio and swung his leg over Gladio’s calf. “It’s ‘kay. I can handle it.” The blond man nuzzled his forehead against Gladio’s shoulder and whispered, “I’ll be fine.”
Could he? Could Prompto handle that black blood and those red eyes?
So, Gladio held the blond in his arms, running the tips of his fingers across his developing muscles and up to Prom’s neck, all the while the remembering the way the MT’s skin parted under his sword.
(He held Prompto’s neck like one would a new sylleblossom, trying to protect it from himself.)
Re: Fill: Noctis/Prompto - in somnis veritas (In sleep there is truth) 2/?
Date: 2017-01-09 01:09 pm (UTC)This is terrible and wonderful. Can't wait for Noct's chapter.
Re: Fill: Noctis/Prompto - in somnis veritas (In sleep there is truth) 3/?
Date: 2017-01-09 02:20 pm (UTC)“There’s something different about them. There’s something off.”
Zegnautus Keep was hell on Eos.
And these MT’s were his own personal daemons, created to escort him to the throne.
Noctis knew that the moment the first one wrapped its fingers around his throat. He was used to MT’s trying to kill him. He had killed enough of them in the last few months to last a lifetime, and yet, for some unexplainable reason, it was only dawning on him now. Now, when he was alone and tired and so fucking scared out of his mind with only that god forsaken ring as company, was he able to hear it.
The MTs were breathing.
When the first one reached through the bars and pulled him close, he felt its breath, hot like a Fire spell, against his face. Gralea was so cold, so goddamn cold, and if not for his heart bursting in terror because it had its fingers wrapped around his windpipe, Noctis would have appreciated the warmth.
But…
Since when did Magitek armor need to breathe?
After using the Ring to pull the thing into the ether, Noctis breathed into his hands, seeing his breath puff out in a cloud before him.
“Oh, tut tut. Why would you kill it?”
Ardyn.
Noctis growled and wondered if the man could hear him, could see him. Was he getting off on this sick fetish? Was he laughing? Was he enjoying the view?
“Fuck you,” Noctis grumbled and turned the Ring on his finger, closing his fist tight until the metal bit into his skin. He didn’t want to look at that red glow.
“After all, I thought you liked your dear Prompto.”
Noctis sucked in a breath through his teeth, hearing the hiss reverberate through the empty halls.
“I’ll find him, I swear,” Noctis yelled, words bouncing against the laughter.
“Oh, I am certain you will-- can you see him, coming around the corner?”
Noctis knew it was a trap, he knew better, but he could hear boots on the ground and when he saw Prompto he knew something was wrong-- because--
“Yes, little Noctis. Your Prompto has been lying to you. All this time, he was a monster.”
Noctis gagged.
The Axman before him was Prompto, but Prompto had blue eyes like the sky, like that first day when they were kids and it had been so damn sunny, a cloudless afternoon. Noctis knew that color and had stared into them on the good days and the bad days, the days where there was nothing but laughter and on the days where there was nothing but tears.
He knew those eyes.
But this? This thing?
This was a monster.
He was a monster.
“No, no!” Noctis screamed and he wanted to thrust out his hand to send that thing into the ether, but it had Prompto’s face.
It had Prompto’s face.
He didn’t fight it, at first. In fact, for a moment, Noctis wondered if it was even really there--Ardyn was good with warping reality, distorting the truth. There was nothing in front of him, let alone that open-mouth, blond-haired mockery of Prompto with black blood and daemon red eyes staring out at him, void of light.
“Poor Prompto must be feeling the heat right about now.” Ardyn giggled. He giggled. “Those eyes. Poor thing; giving into his nature takes such a toll on the body. The eyes go first. We knew that we had him when his eyes changed.”
Noctis only fought back when the thing wrapped its fingers around his throat and began to choke, and he could see its face that this couldn’t possibly be Prompto. He wanted to kiss its gaping jaw, let his mouth rest on those freckles and accepted his fate. He wouldn’t have struck back. He wouldn’t have dared to.
But that skin was ashy and sickly, as though it had never seen sunlight-- and that wasn’t Prompto at all. Prompto burned when he sat outside for too long, and Noctis had long ago memorized the scars across Prompto’s cheek from when he had gotten Chocobo-pox when they were sixteen, and this thing didn’t have it. It wasn’t Prompto.
It wasn’t Prompto.
Yet watching those soulless eyes, the whites turned black and the blue turned blood red, Noctis had to fight every urge in him to not cry.
Ardyn was good with his magic, but Noctis was better.
He had to squeeze his eyes tight when he felt the fingers losing their grip around his throat and he knew what would happen next. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t really Prompto; he couldn’t watch his magic kill it.
He couldn’t watch it die.
“Are you certain it wasn’t the real thing? We wouldn’t want to make a mistake.”
No, Noctis reminded himself. He knew Prompto. He knew him, had loved him since they were obnoxious teenagers with fumbling hands and dry mouths and whispers in the bathroom stall where he hoped they wouldn’t be noticed.
No illusion Ardyn sent at him would confuse him again. He wouldn’t let it-- no.
He couldn’t let it.
“You won’t fool me with your illusions--”
“Who said anything about illusions?”
Noctis’s mouth went dry.
“You may not believe me, but I assure you that I merely… removed the veil from your eyes, the veil your dearest friend put there himself.”
No. Those things did not have Prompto’s face, this was all just a disgusting lie. It was Ardyn fucking with him, pretending like it wasn’t him.
“Your other friends--the ones that are more than your friends? Yes… they knew and lied to you, too. I wonder how long the have known that your sweet Prompto was a monster.”
“Prompto’s not a monster--shut up!”
It wasn’t true. It couldn’t have been true.
The next time, Ardyn sent two.
It was easier for Noctis to kill them when they were in pairs because he could look from one sickened face to the other and remember that no matter how close it was to being Prompto, it wasn’t him. None of them were Prompto.
Fuck.
“He only looks human, but I assure you, my King, that your lover is nothing but a well-trained shell. Just like them. It only takes a moment to complete the switch.”
It wasn’t true. It was all a lie. There was nothing mechanical, nothing daemon about Prompto. Nothing. Noctis had seem Prompto bare to the world, every part of him showing. He had kissed across the freckles on Prompto’s chest, listened to his heartbeat. Prompto was human, warm and pliable and breathing.
But so were these things.
So were they.
“You never wondered about the tattoos on his wrist, Noctis? Those are for the MTs, to code them… herd them like the sheep they are. Did he tell you that? Did he tell you what they did? I am curious--what is his number?”
The tattoo on Prompto’s wrist? Noctis shuddered. Prompto said it was the mark given to him by the orphanage when he was a baby, and he had been so damn uncomfortable that Noctis had just ignored it. He wanted to kiss it, to tell Prompto that if his original parents hadn’t wanted him, his real mom did. His mom who worked every day and every night to make sure that Prompto got to live and grow safely--she wanted him.
And now… Now, Ignis and Gladio loved and wanted him.
Noctis wanted him more than the sun--no. That wasn’t true.
To him, Prompto was the sun.
But it didn’t matter what those tattoos on his wrist were… it didn’t.
“Ah, 1025736. Ring any bells?”
Noctis squeezed his eyes closed and reached out into the magic of the ring and pulled. Prompto’s birthday.
There was a scream over the intercom and a rush of something stronger than terror pulled at Noctis’s heart as he broke out into a run, wishing that the sound of Prompto’s cries would stop-- because Ardyn wouldn’t really hurt him…
Except he would. He had already killed Luna. He had blinded Ignis.
“Please! Stop!”
The sound of the intercom cut out and Noctis wasn’t sure what was worse, hearing Prompto’s screams or not hearing them.
The longer he ran, the more of the monsters wearing his lover’s face appeared and Noctis let the magic of the Ring rush over him like a cool, sweet cloth. The longer he allowed the magic of the crystal to pull at him the more the edges of the room seemed to become red and fuzzy until the red of Prompto’s eyes disappeared and he could almost pretend like the thing in front of him really was Prompto. He would get close enough to see the Ring squeeze the last bit of their bodies to ash and then it would fade and he would remember all over again.
“I wonder… will there be anything left of your little monster when you arrive? Perhaps I’ll activate him and see just how much you care for him when he is just like all of them.”
“Touch one hair on his fucking head--”
“And you’ll do what, my King? Maim me? Kill me? I am terribly sorry, but I want to let you in on a little secret.” The voice cut out for a moment and Noctis stopped to stare up at the ceiling where he imagined the camera was.
“Stop stringing me along--” Noctis began, but his voice turned to a startled gasp when he saw the fake Prompto ahead of him, screaming out as his entire body twisted and contorted and Noctis could only watch as Prompto’s spine snapped and his arms and legs cracked. The MT Prompto was skittering toward him on all fours, his head lolling from the energy of his gyrating steps.
Noctis held out his half, allowing the red lick of the ring to dull his senses.
“Your sweet Prompto? Have you ever thought it strange how you met? How he was so willing and ready to take you as his friend? You were such a lonely little boy, no doubt… I wonder if you had any friends, other than the Shield and your Advisor. And what an odd little relationship you three have.”
Ignis. Gladio.
“Prompto told me about your little… agreement. You didn’t think it odd that someone who talks so much about the pleasures of women would be willing to play a part in your perverse desires--”
No.
Prompto… he always accepted Noctis, for every flaw and broken piece. He had accepted the good and the bad or the different, as in the case of Gladio and Ignis.
He had always accepted Noctis as exactly who he was.
“Did you think he loved you? These biological machines are programmed to be good shells, but I assure that there is nothing true inside your little friend. He is as empty as… well, as an MT. He followed his orders well, don’t you think? He truly was a work of art.”
It couldn’t be true. Prompto…. Prompto…
“I wonder whether or not daemons can feel disgust or revulsion. If so, he would no doubt hold you in the highest of contempt. I admit, I am curious to see what a monster does when it is angry… Then he will be my masterpiece, my magnum opus. Don’t you want to see?”
Re: Fill: Noctis/Prompto - in somnis veritas (In sleep there is truth) 3/?
Date: 2017-01-09 04:43 pm (UTC)oh my god this
this was everything I have ever wanted and more like GODDAMN I LOVE YOU ANON
I would kill to see more. I would die to see more.
Re: Fill: Noctis/Prompto - in somnis veritas (In sleep there is truth) 3/?
Date: 2017-01-09 04:47 pm (UTC)Re: Fill: Noctis/Prompto - in somnis veritas (In sleep there is truth) 3/?
Date: 2017-01-09 09:31 pm (UTC)and as for Prompto's chapter - I want to cry. Gimme your best/worst !!!