Prompt Post

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 Welcome to Round One of the FFXV Kink Meme!

CLOSED for prompts | OPEN for fills

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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 9/? Re: Prompto is the kidnapped younger brother of Luna and Ravus AU (Promptis)

[(Anonymous)]

There was something strange about Ardyn.

Prompto couldn’t put his finger on it. Sure, the guy had about as much sleaze as Lestallum’s red-light district clientele put together, and his smile was like a crocodile’s—all teeth and predatory intent. But he acted like he wanted to help them get to the Disc of Cauthess. Still, every time he so much as breathed in his direction, Prompto felt his muscles lock up and his breath go short.

“You’ve been pretty quiet,” Gladio told him, when they settled down at a caravan for the night. Prompto was out by the plastic dining tables, watching Ardyn warily as he paced and spoke to Noct.

Prompto tried to shrug, but it came out as more of a jerk. Gladio raised a hand over Prompto’s shoulder and gently lowered it, giving him time to react to the touch.

“Take it easy, okay?”

“Thanks, Gladio,” Prompto said. Gladio was remarkably perceptive. He kept his hand on Prompto for another moment before drawing back, and positioned himself so that he was in Prompto’s view at all times. It was comforting to know that the no-nonsense Amicitia had his back, and Prompto let out a deep sigh, imagining his fear pouring off him like Noct’s magic in one of their meditation practices.

“Now,” Ardyn said, breaking Prompto out of his thoughts. “That is an accent I wasn’t expecting.”

Prompto glanced over at the older man and felt his heartbeat quicken. “Whatever, man.”

“It’s just,” the man said, leaning towards him, “You look so dreadfully familiar—“ He reached out to grasp Prompto’s chin, and Prompto leaned back, nearly falling over in his seat. Noct half stood from his chair. Gladio held onto Prompto’s shoulders, righting him. Ignis stepped forward with a cry of, “Now that is hardly appropriate,” and Ardyn laughed.

“So protective,” he said, smiling benevolently. “Who’s the prince, here?”

“I’m going to bed,” Prompto said, abruptly. He rose to his feet and disappeared into the welcome warmth of the caravan. Noct followed him shortly after, and insisted that Prompto sleep against the wall while he braced him on the other side. Prompto knew that he was trying to block him from Ardyn, knew that by all accounts he should be protecting Noct, but the taste of fear was so thick in his mouth that he didn’t argue.

When he finally slept, he dreamt of needles, and pain, and blood spotted with midnight black.

-----

If the voice of Bahamut was like a clear bell, the voice of the Archaeon was a bell lined with gravel, kicked along an uneven path for good measure. Prompto winced every time they spoke, and could barely make out the words over the crash of stone and the tremor in the earth. He and Ignis made it to Gladio and Noct just as the second wave of MT soldiers touched down, and the word the Titan roared in their direction was one Prompto hadn’t picked up in any of his books or Luna’s letters.

“Call it a hunch, but I think they’re mad,” he shouted to Noct, slapping him on the back as he ran to fire a shot over a squadron of MTs. Noct didn’t bother to reply—he was already building a wall between himself and the Titan, filtering the strength of the Archaeon’s voice even as he parried their blows. Prompto couldn’t help but feel a little personal pride at that.

Noct was glorious to watch. Whatever had happened between his fall down the slope and his arrival at the Titan’s feet, the prince’s focus had slipped from a wavering, uncertain thing, to a straightforward determination that gave him the courage to warp directly onto the Titan’s oncoming fist. Prompto couldn’t help but stop and stare for a moment as the small, black form warped and tumbled in the air, summoning his armiger in a flash of blue light.

Here was a king, drifting out into the open from behind Noct’s carefully crafted veneer of disinterest. Here was a glimmer of the man he had to become, the man who would need to lose everything to defeat the Scourge. Prompto ached at the sight of him, and once more sent a silent plea to Bahamut that this one time, just this once, his light didn’t have to be extinguished.

“Prompto, eyes front!” Prompto fell back under Ignis’ firm hand, and followed Noct’s advisor back into the fray.

When the Archaeon crouched before them, dissolving into a mass of glowing lights, Prompto held Noct’s hands as the future king built a crystal dome around them, filtering the power of the Titan as the covenant was forged. When it was done, the mark of the Archaeon flickered over Noct’s eyes for a moment, and then faded, leaving the old, deliberately vague Noctis smirking at Prompto’s starry-eyed gaze.

“Careful,” he said. “You might be coming down with a case of hero worship.”

“As if,” Prompto said. He kissed him, then, and tasted dirt and sweat on his lips as the roar of MT carrier ships broke through the crash of crumbling stone.

A smug, oily voice called out over a carrier loudspeaker.

“Thought you boys might need a lift!”

Noct pulled away from Prompto with a scowl, and they all looked up at Ardyn, leaning against the wall of a carrier’s bay doors. But not just Ardyn. Ardyn Izunia, as he so graciously informed them. Chancellor of Niflheim.