final_fantasy_kink_meme

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Here is the Prompt Post for Final Fantasy 15! As the most recent individual instalment, FFXV has a dedicated post in anticipation of higher activity. This round will close when we reach 5000 comments.

Rules

1. All comments to the meme must be anonymous. Linking to fills on Ao3 is allowed, but links must still be posted on anon.
2. Concrit is welcome as per the author, but character bashing, kink shaming, and hijacking (derailing prompts with contrary comments or asking for additions to the prompt) are not allowed.
3. Warning for spoilers and subjects such as non-con, incest, underage and character death is highly recommended, but not mandatory.
4. Crossover prompts may be cross-posted in any relevant prompting post.
5. Please link all fills to the Fills Post.
6. Don't be an asshole. Mods reserve the right to freeze, screen or delete at their discretion.

If you have any concerns or spot any rule violations please comment on the Ask a Mod post. Beyond that post and have fun!

Prompting Guidelines

1. Include the name of the Final Fantasy game/media you're prompting for, followed by the characters involved in the subject title.
2. For pairings use the name/name format (examples: Noctis/Prompto, Locke/Celes, Zack/Cloud/Sephiroth).
3. It's not required but we highly recommend including kinks and content warnings in the subject as well.

Links

Final Fantasy 1-6 Prompt Post: #1
Final Fantasty 7-14 Prompt Post: #1
Final Fantasy 15 Prompt Post: #1
Final Fantasy Dissidia, Tactics, Media and crossovers Prompt Post: #1

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From: (Anonymous)

‘Like fuck,’ Noctis snarled, trying to shove his dad off, get back on his feet. ‘Tell them to get off! They’re making him worse, they’re hurting him—’

‘They’ll let go once you’re at a safe distance.’

Disbelief, sudden realisation, hit Noctis, made grind to a halt. ‘What? He’s Ignis. What the fuck? He’s — he’s not going to hurt me.’

‘Until he’s calmed down, we can’t be sure.’

‘No,’ Noctis said. ‘No, fuck that.’ He twisted, getting onto his feet and tearing himself from his dad’s grip, but Sota was in front of him.

‘Your Highness,’ she said. Behind her, Ignis was panting, moaning, crushed to the floor. ‘Please. Step back. We can let him when you’re—’

‘Let him go now,’ Noctis said, snarled. ‘Get the fuck off—’

He warped; he didn’t even register what he pulled from the armiger and threw, but he was beside Clarus and shoving at him. Arms around his waist pulled him away, and he kicked as he was yanked off his feet, dragged back, clawing at the hands dragging him away from Ignis. He grabbed something again to throw, warp, but hands grabbed his wrists, and his dad was in front of him.

‘Noctis!’ Hands on his shoulders, gripping, hard. ‘You will control yourself!’

His shout left nothing behind. Even Ignis’ strangled panting was gone quiet. ‘Noctis,’ his dad said. ‘We can’t help him unless you’re letting us.’

‘Help?’ Noctis tried to look over, beyond his dad to where he could just about make out Clarus, but not Ignis. ‘How the fuck are — how are you—’ His voice had gone broken, hard, like trying to force little stones up his throat. His legs were weak, barely even holding him up.

‘Sit down,’ his dad said, and Sota let go of him, and he was guided back to the bed.

Finally, Noctis turned to look at Ignis, still on the floor, still crushed beneath Clarus. His arms were twisted, wrapped around himself then caught with his wrists behind his back, Clarus straddling his hips. His mouth was open, eyes tight shut.

‘Ignis,’ Clarus said, low, soothing, like he wasn’t literally bending Ignis’ arms back, restraining him, squashing him against the floor. ‘Ignis, can you hear me?’

Ignis didn’t respond. His chest was heaving, awkward, no room to properly expand.

‘Ignis. Ignis Scientia. Respond if you can hear me.’

For a moment, there wasn’t anything. Then, a small, broken whimper, a noise on the tail end of an exhale. ‘Please,’ Ignis said, tiny, like the word was scraped out of him. ‘Don’t — don’t hurt him.’

He kicked his feet, scuffing his toes against the floor, but weakly, and it didn’t do anything anyway.

Beside him, his dad made some kind of motion; Noctis didn’t see what, couldn’t tear his eyes away from Ignis. He — he needed to do something, but he didn’t know what, and he felt vaguely sure that even if he knew what he probably couldn’t do it anyway. His limbs had gone useless, his body like the laggiest game played on shitty wifi.

He shut his eyes, fists clenching the sheets, feeling them come loose from where they’d been tucked in. He wanted his dad’s hands back on his shoulders, holding him, anchoring him down. He wanted Ignis.

‘Come on,’ his dad said, and touched Noctis’ arm, just above the elbow. ‘We’ll gave them some space.’

Noctis froze, just as he’d been shifting forwards to get up. ‘What?’ he said. ‘No. I can’t — I can’t leave. He’s — he needs me.’

‘He needs to calm down,’ his dad said, and Noctis wanted to snap at him, tell him, stop saying calm down. Because it wasn’t like he was upset, or — or angry, or anything, he didn’t need to calm down, he was — he thought—

‘No,’ Noctis said.

‘Noctis, he’s remembering what happened to him. He’s living through it again, and it’s very likely you’re making him worse.’

Noctis’ eyes flickered to his dad, then back again to Ignis.

‘He may have to be sedated,’ his dad said.

‘I don’t want to leave.’

‘Noct.’

‘Please.’

His dad took him by the shoulders, turned him, and Noctis allowed himself to be taken from the room, tucked under his dad's arm, even though he barely fit. He pressed himself to his dad's side and didn't look back. It was for Ignis' sake; if it helped Ignis, then he'd leave. He wouldn't be selfish. Not after Ignis had — not after he'd—

He didn't want to look back and see whether Ignis was looking at him. If Ignis recognised him, thought he was being taken away. He didn't want to know what Ignis thought was happening.

He sat in a room down the corridor, with his dad and Clarus, who came in a few minutes after them. There was a TV. Noctis wondered dully what'd be playing if he turned it on — whether the news of the kidnap was out already, and his rescue, and the details. People must have seen him wander into the hospital, so they'd know he around and unharmed, though had they also seen Ignis, bloodied and half dead? Had someone got to the paramedics in time to stop them telling anyone what they'd seen, even if only in passing, the briefest of details?

What about Ignis? Was anyone saying anything about him, his injuries, the way they'd tortured him? The Citadel press team would spin it so he was a passive victim, probably, since he wasn't official Crownsguard yet and having a minor, someone not employed to do anything but study, sacrifice himself bodily for the prince — right, it was a bad look, Noctis knew. So they'd play up the kidnapper's sadism, how no one could have predicted it, how terrible it was that not only was the young prince put in such danger but his friend, another child, was caught in the crossfire.

There were footsteps in the corridor outside, hurried. Noctis' head jerked up to the door, but they didn't stop and didn't come in. On their way to Ignis? Or doing something else not related to them at all?

Was Ignis okay? What was happening, right now?

Were they safe with just Clarus? There were probably other Glaive around, just not in the room.

His dad stood, and Noctis' neck hurt with the speed at which he turned to look at him.

'One moment,' his dad said, and had his phone to his ear before he was two strides to the door. Clarus went with him, and left Noctis alone in the room.

The door clicked shut. He couldn't hear them in the corridor.

Anxiety flooded him, like a blow from the flat of Gladio's great sword. His heart slammed in his chest; he broke out in sweat all over. He could barely breathe. His mouth was open, throat dry and raw and chest heaving, and he couldn't breathe. He couldn't move. This was — fuck, this was stupid, but he couldn’t stop the fear that froze him, tearing up his chest. He was fine; he just needed to push through it; where was Ignis? He wanted Ignis — he wanted his dad. He wanted to stop feeling like he was dying.

His eyes were squeezed shut. Tears welled out of them anyway, hot on his cheeks. This was stupid. He was fine. His dad was just on the other side of the door, on the phone. Ignis was alive. They were all fine. Clarus was there, and Sota, and other Kingsglaive. His heart wouldn't stop pounding, trying to force itself up his throat until he threw it up. Breathe. He had to breathe. Cold water, but he didn’t think he could manage to get up to get any.

What were they doing to Ignis? Had they sedated him? Why would they even need to? He wasn't going to hurt anyone. He hadn't done anything except try to protect Noctis, even if he hadn't needed to.

He wanted to go find him, only he knew he probably shouldn't, and anyway he couldn't move. He was helpless, just as useless as he'd been when they'd tortured Ignis. Made Ignis torture himself to save Noctis.

His stomach turned, and his throat tightened. Fuck — fuck, he was going to throw up — he took a gasping breath, trying to force the feeling down, away. He couldn't open his eyes, couldn't uncurl. Where could he throw up into? There was an ensuite — could he make it to the toilet? Fuck, he didn't want to throw up on the floor. Fuck, fuck—

Gods, why was he so useless? His hands covered his mouth. His stomach bucked, though he managed to swallow down the burning vomit as it hit the back of his mouth.

He couldn't do anything. He couldn't save himself. He couldn't save Ignis. He couldn't even deal with having been saved, having seen Ignis be hurt. Tortured. He should be doing whatever was needed to help Ignis, not just... sitting here, panicking.

Time passed. He didn't throw up. The anxiety leached out of him, leaving him exhausted, sickly feeling, floating. He still didn't know where his dad was, or Ignis, or anyone; he could be alone in the whole of Insomnia. He tucked himself into the bed, too tired to take off his shoes, or unbutton his jacket so it wasn't tugging at his shoulders, and went to sleep.

He woke to his dad's hand on his back, rocking him awake. Sleep left only reluctantly, dragging at him, sticky and weighting down his body, thoughts.

'We need to get back to the Citadel,' his dad said. 'Noctis? Come on, up we get.'

Noctis squinted, pulling at the threads of his thoughts, and sat up. He scrubbed at his face. 'Ignis?' He said. His mouth was sticky, nasty tasting. He wanted to go back to sleep; exhaustion pulled at him.

'Ignis is going to stay here for a while longer,' his dad said. 'They want to keep him under observation, just in case there are any lingering complications from the surgery.'

That, Noctis knew, even without being fully awake, was a lie. But, if it was for Ignis' best interests — okay, then. He could cope.

He probably couldn’t cope, but that wasn’t the point.

He ended up clinging to his dad's sleeve again, and his dad stood in the bathroom door while he brushed his teeth and washed his face. He still felt unpleasantly grimey, a thin layer of something coating him, but at least it was better now than before. 'I want to see Ignis,' he said, half expecting to get refused straight away, bracing himself to argue. But his dad only nodded, and they were joined outside by a glaive Noctis didn't know and Cor, this time, as they made their way down the corridor.

Ignis had been put in a new room. The door had to be opened with a swipe card; the sound of it locking as it closed behind them, a decisive click, made Noctis turn to look at it. He tried the handle but it wouldn't open.

'You're locking him in?' His voice was shrill with indignation. 'What if there's a fire or something? He's not crazy. What the fuck?'

He turned, looking to Ignis for confirmation that it was a stupid idea, not just stupid but insulting and unnecessary and dangerous, only Ignis wasn't even looking at him. He was on the bed, flat on his back. His eyes were open, just about, but staring at the ceiling.

'In the end they were forced to sedate him,' his dad said, softly. 'But now they know more about his condition, they'll know how to deal with it in the future. Don't worry, Noctis. He'll be all right.'

'In the event of a fire or other emergency, the door will unlock automatically,' Cor said, mildly. Noctis couldn’t even bear to even look at him. He ignored him.

'Can I—' Noctis said, and hesitated, wanting to go up to Ignis, not wanting to do something to — make him do what happened last time.

He ended up walking to Ignis before anyone could tell him not to, but they didn't stop him either.

'Noct.' Ignis' eyes finally moved down to meet his. He didn't smile, or really do anything at all, except open his mouth for a small sigh, a gentle exhale.

'Hey, Specs,' Noctis said, and reached over to grab at Ignis' hand.

Ignis' skin was cool, dry. He didn't grip back at first, then when he did it was weak, nothing at all like his normal, firm grasp. His hand lay in Noctis', his fingers curled around Noctis', just barely. He closed his eyes.

Noct let himself be led out of the room, out a back door of the hospital, and into a car with his dad, Cor, and the glaive from earlier. He shut his eyes and leant his head against the door, pretending to be asleep so no one would talk to him.

The days passed in a blur. He went back to school and repeated the official story of what and why and how it had all happened. He was excused from homework and evening classes with his Citadel tutors. His training with Gladio was rearranged to be low impact, cardio work. His magic and warping lessons were cancelled. Each morning he expected Ignis back — it’d been a day, then two days, and why wasn’t he back yet? Three days was pushing it, why would Ignis need to be kept in the hospital for three days when he wasn’t injured? — but Ignis did not come home.

One of Ignis' secretaries brought up the meeting minutes and things Ignis ought to have brought him, and she smiled and told him gently that he didn't have to look at them if he didn't feel up to it. Noctis nodded at her, returning the smile automatically, and shoved the folio under the pile of books and schoolwork and junk he had lying around on the table when she left.

He wanted to see Ignis. He wanted to know how Ignis was doing that wasn't sanitised, wasn't he's still recovering but doing well, your highness, I expect he'll be out in no time. He sent Ignis texts, tried to call him, but his phone was off or dead or maybe Ignis had blocked him, even.

He asked, four days after he'd left Ignis at the hospital, about going to visit him. He'd sent an email to Ignis' uncle, because he had to know how Ignis was doing, and would be able to say if Ignis wanted to see him or not, and whether Ignis was ignoring his texts or just wasn’t getting them.

Ignis had to want to see him. It was Ignis. Of course he would. He wouldn’t be Ignis without Noctis.

The reply hadn't come until two days later. Noctis read it, then reread it. He picked out which parts he could ignore, the formality and well-wishes, and copied the relevant lines out to stare at:

Ignis is still unwell, and may find visitors a little overwhelming at this time. I'm sure he appreciates that you're thinking of him, however. If you would like to visit I can put you in contact with his doctor, of course, but please be aware it may not be possible.

What was that meant to mean? Wasn't that just a polite way of saying Ignis didn't want to see him but couldn't refuse if he demanded it? Or the doctor was refusing Ignis visitors? Noctis didn’t care what the doctor thought, but did Ignis want to see him? Wouldn’t Ignis have already asked to see him, or even asked how he was, or anything that said more than he appreciates that you’re thinking of him?

Only, maybe Ignis didn’t want to see him. Maybe Noctis had been wrong to assume he did, and always would, when it’d been because of Noctis that Ignis had been tortured in the first place. Noctis wouldn't want to see — only he would. He was sure he’d want to see Ignis if it were the other way around, but maybe Ignis just didn't feel the same.

And it hurt; it really fucking hurt, but that was being selfish, and wasn't the whole point of what he needed to be doing was doing what was best for Ignis?

So, right, if Ignis didn't want to see him then he wouldn't have to. And if he wanted to quit then that'd be fine, too. Noctis would do whatever would make Ignis happiest, because Noctis owed it to him, and even if he didn't then he still wanted that anyway. To make Ignis happy.