Pocky Day!!!

Noctis:

His face is carefully blank when he brings it up, eyes
looking at the ceiling as if he wasn’t nervous about how cheesy the idea was. They
were at his apartment, sitting on the couch and playing video game, or rather
watching him play, when he’d paused the game and asked about Pocky day. He
pretended that he didn’t know what it was, rather them offer to play the game
than him initiating the game.

Conveniently, there was pocky among the snacks that Ignis
had brought from them earlier. The amused look that Ignis had given him had
nearly made his face burn off from how quickly it had turned red. But now with
them looking at him with a pleasant blush on their face, and hearing their soft
laugh, it was worth it.

“Well, you take one of these…” They opened the box and
pulled one out, continuing to explain the game.

Meanwhile, Noctis wasn’t paying attention. He was fixated on
their lips as they spoke, and only was distracted when they asked, “So do you
want to try it?”

He nodded almost embarrassingly fast, but then slowed down
and put back his mask of indifference.

“Yeah, sure.” He tossed in a shrug, as if he really didn’t
care. Never mind that he felt all fluttery.

“Alright, this will be a practice round then.” They then put
the Pocky between their lips and raised their eyebrow, as if asking him if he
was ready.

In response he leaned forward, and they counted down with
their hand.

“Go!” They tried to say, but with their mouth occupied it
came out muffled, but Noctis still understood. They both tried to eat the most
of the pocky, quickly as possible. They had a smile in their eyes and Noctis
was trying his best not to laugh at how this was actually kind of fun. And
seeing them getting closer with every nibble was an added bonus.

In the end neither were keeping track of who ate the most,
and instead focused on when their lips met.

Prompto:

They’d been playing all day, with teasing laughs and were actually
keeping score. Both were at the citadel for the day, Prompto running through a
low stress training session for the day. His S/O on the other hand would just
be there for moral support, occasionally cheering to themselves when Prompto
did something he was struggling with. There were frequent breaks thankfully,
not to mention that there were other people there who just came by to see their
friends, family, and partners as they trained. So they had plenty of company.

Every time they did see each other though, the first thing
they’d call out is, “I’m still winning!”

The other would always reply with, “Get over here and prove
it then!”

In reality they were both tied. And with how much fun they
were having with each other were making the other couples a bit jealous. Those
who were single either thought they were super cute, or felt like they had
cavities.

Eventually they do run out of pocky, and just spend the rest
of their time arguing about who won with light hearted smiles and adoration in
their eyes for each other.

Ignis:

The S/O would have to explain the game to him and he wouldn’t
really get it. Or so he’d say. Internally he’d be wondering how they could be
so cute. So when they ask if he wants to play he’d end up saying yes. And then promptly
cheat by breaking the pocky and simply kissing them.

“I guess I win that one.” He’d say eating the pilfered pocky
while his S/O is stunned.

They end up laughing, not expecting that from Ignis, and he’d
also end up laughing when they demand a rematch. But in the end, he just ends
up kissing them and stealing the pocky. Somehow, they don’t mind though.

Gladio:

He doesn’t realize what day it is until he sees his S/O
eating a pocky stick. They don’t realize what day it is either, until he brings
it up. The game makes his S/O laugh, but then they tell him that they’re
winning since they’ve gotten a head start on the box.

It’s on after that.

They take turns teasing each other and end up going through
the whole box very quickly, both having a competitive streak a mile wide. So
they walk to the store together, arguing about whether the half of the box the
S/O ate actually counts. Upon getting more, Gladio plays keep away so he can ‘catch
up’ as he put it. And that’s what makes the S/O give up the pocky they ate
alone. But they’re smiling when they do.

So they go back to playing the game, each time they eat one
together, lips brushing one another, they end up turning into a kiss. Eventually
though, it turns into taunting each other and flat out trying to keep the pocky
from each other, to try and keep their lead on each other once they realize
that they’re both still mentally keeping track. It very quickly turns into a
chase/race back to Gladio’s place, with the winner being who won the game.

Another AU I was thinking about to music.

What if Ardyn and Somnus were twins? Like, fraternal twins. Ardyn was older by only a few minutes, but didn’t want the throne. Just like my last AU, they have magic without the crystal, but this time around Ardyn kind of gives into the temptation of running off for a year when they turn 20 and exploring the world before he has to come back and step in as his father’s heir. Somnus encourages this, and in the dead of night he takes off.

Problem is that the gods, like in the last AU, were planning on gifting them the crystal and putting the same plan in action. Ardyn is the only one who can heal people, because that’s what he wanted to study with his magic. Somnus learned how to wield the elements instead. And as Ardyn runs around and see sick people, healing them without the tie to the crystal enabling the scourge to seep into his soul, it just starts floating around and binding to the gods instead of him.

So they’re a little cross with Ardyn for ruining their plans already. (Except Ifrit, who is not at all on board with sacrificing his favorite humans.)((The god of light was his favorite fellow god, until he decided to become mortal, after all.)) So they issue Somnus an ultimatum, to save their own hides; Find your brother so he can begin his work for the gods and heal the scourge away.

He’s like, bummer, Ardyn just wanted a year of freedom, but okay. So he starts trailing after his brother with Gilgamesh, (slowly mind you) and starts learning that, hey, Ardyn can already heal the scourge, and two, he knows that I’m looking for him the little shit. Because Ardyn doesn’t know about the god’s proclamation, and is just like, whoops, dad must be super cross with me for taking off if he’s sending my brother and Gil after me, and leaves little clues around spots he’s been indicating where he’s going next. Very obvious clues. Like, literally, he draws on a map at one point that says ‘X marks the spot’ with a huge X on it and a silly looking drawing of Gil and Somnus following a trail to the X.

Occasionally, they spend nights in the same town and never even realize it. Or at least Ardyn doesn’t. The more Somnus learns about his brother, the more he realizes the gods are kind of full of shit. And when he does catch sight of him, he distracts Gil and they go a different direction so they don’t ‘catch’ him. (Gil legit does the same thing though, and knows that Somnus does it too, but he’s amused, so he keeps quiet.)

Eventually Ifrit, seeing that Somnus is now doubting Bahamut, sees his chance. Even though he’s getting sick from the scourge as well, he’s willing to step down as a god to save humanity, and has almost convinced Shiva as well. (He’s been secretly trying to make his fellow gods see Humanity’s worth and how they barely need to watch over them.) Ramuh is already on his side, because he delights in humanity more than he lets on. Leviathan is up in the air constantly changing her mind, but he can’t fault her, its her nature. Titan is behind Bahamut, and set in his way.

Anyways, he appears to Somnus and reveals the false prophecy that Bahamut intends to enact on humanity. Which causes him and Gil to freak out, and honestly try to find Ardyn to warn him away from going home. At the same time, the Draconian grows impatient, and honestly a little corrupted from the scourge that’s been binding to him for months now, and sets literal demons after Ardyn to drag him back to what will be Insomnia, and chain his magic to the scourge by force if he has to.

So eventually, it’d turn into a race against time, with Somnus and Gilgamesh trying to catch up to Ardyn, who is seeing more and more of the infected daily and feels obligated to help. And it turns into him actually being on the run from his brother, because it’s not just fun and games anymore, people are dying and will die if he doesn’t help them. Eventually, though an odd parallel, it would turn into Somnus trying to save his brother, like how Noctis tried to save Luna.

…But I’d want it to have a happier end I think. (Heck, might as well go completely self indulgent and have weird time shenanigans happen because of Somnus’s desperation and magic, and he accidentally yanks Noctis and co into the past to help.)

*edit: Also since one of my head canons is the Noctis looks exactly like Somnus, hilarity ensues once Ardyn sees them together. “Uh….are we triplets or was I adopted?!”

Just an AU I’m playing around with.

So I’m sitting here listening to music and thought of an idea for an Ardyn focused AU. Don’t get me wrong, I love him as a villain, but also, I want to see him just break the prophecy before it started.

Like, just imagine for a moment the reason the royal family has magic is because they’re related to the gods, but chose to walk a mortal life. But as time went on, the reason they had magic was lost. That long before Ardyn was born, the knowledge was lost to them. The gods remember though.

Then the scourge is introduced, and people in Ardyn’s time start getting sick. The gods could have eradicated it themselves, but at the cost of also becoming mortal and losing their magic. Why should they do that though? It would take time, but eventually, they could restore one of the blood line of Lucis to godhood and let them end the scourge by giving up their godhood and magic for good this time. The brothers would serve for this. One would be king, while the other would fall into the scourge.

So they put a plan into action. They appear to the Lucis Caelums and give them the crystal, something that will slowly start siphoning the magic from each successor of the line and storing it until the one they deem ‘the king of light’ is born. They tell them it is the soul of their world and that it must be guarded by the Lucis Caelums, that their magic is divine and was the best fit to over see it’s safety. Which of course they readily agree. The rite to tie the crystal to their line is planned for the next day, and each member will offer themselves up to the crystal to be judged on who will be it’s first protector.

But like, alright, through time shenanigans, imagine that young Ardyn goes to bed that night and dreams of thousands of years. He sees everything. The rise and fall of himself. His brother being tricked by the draconian into ‘killing’ him. Years of isolation in the prison on Angelgard. Getting free and walking into a world where the people have forgotten him. Learning early on that isolation was better than watching people he grew attached to die while he still lived. Hearing the plans the god had for his family. Growing hopelessly entrapped by the chains of the ‘prophecy’ and trying to change it. Being beaten into submission by the gods through the passage of years. The gods won’t let him die until he accepts that he’d to die on their terms. And when he accepts it, Noctis is born.

This part of the dream is the most vivid. Imagine him seeing Noctis, seeing that he has the face of brother, and his chest hurts. But he plays the roll of the villain and gets lost in the thought that soon, it’ll finally be over. He’ll die finally. He’ll have peace and…

Then he wakes, and he screams. He screams and cries, and REFUSES. With his heart beat in his ears, he runs to the crystal. He knows the truth. That it’s a shackle to the god’s will. His magic has always been HIS, and is not tied to the crystal. Not yet. He hasn’t received the order from the crystal, the gods really, to heal the people and allow the scourge to infect him down to his very soul. He knows what he is, and the crystal is at it’s weakest then. The only magic that has touched it has been from the gods that made it.

His brother and father run through the door the moment he places his hands on the surface of the crystal. And upon touching it, he’s in the Draconian’s realm, standing before a god. And he screams at him, accuses him, and firmly states that he refuses to let his family be used. The Daconian’s roars and an argument for the ages ensues. But the god doesn’t have a leg to stand on.

And before the Draconian can make a physical move, to stop him from foiling their plan, he’s back outside the crystal and forcing all his magic into it’s surface, splitting and cracking it apart with his fury. As it cracks, magic rips through the air. Flashes of the future, projected from Ardyn’s mind, echo around him and his family. And when it breaks apart, he collapses. It shatters, and when it does, it rips the magic from the gods, and kills the scourge before it can even really get a foot hold in the world.

For Peace

September 11th: Loqi as a Spy

Cor/Loqi, Cor Leonis/Loqi Tummelt

Rating: general

Word Count: 930

Warnings: None

Summary: Loqi sneaks out from the keep to meet with Cor,
giving over imperial secrets before returning to his life as a general.

Ao3 Link.

He’d always been faster than he’d let on. Sometimes, he felt
like he could fly with how fast he was. Something not known to many outsiders
was that Nifs were always fast. They could run for miles without stopping, if
they had the proper training, as well. And he had more than enough training
thanks to who he was.

The sweater he wore as he ran was close fitting, so the
demons wouldn’t be able to snag their claws on his clothes as he ran by. His
armor left behind in the fort when he’d snuck away. He’d had a few close calls
that night, but lucky for him he didn’t have much farther to go. The haven
where they’d agreed to meet was within sight, and a campfire already built.

Figures he’d be there early.

Loqi darted out of the reach of an iron giant with a
breathless laugh, always thrilled about near misses. And then he was there. The
wind caused from how fast he’d been running, and his sudden stop, caused the
fire to ever so slightly swell for a moment. As if announcing he was there. He
leaned forward, bracing himself on his knees to catch his breath.

Once he did, he stood
up straight and found Cor was coming out of the tent across the fire from him.

“Thought you weren’t coming.” He said in greeting.

Loqi wiped his brow with his sleeve before saying, “Only
took me a while because there’s new security protocols in place since the last
fort was taken down by Lucian forces.”

Cor looked a little troubled at that, “Do they suspect you?”

“Not yet,” He said, plopping down on the ground next to the
fire, “It’s getting close though. The more you learn about the forts, and the
closer you get to pushing us out, the tighter they hold our reigns.”

“Just remember Loqi, if it gets too dangerous…”

“Insomnia will welcome me with open arms as a defector.”
Loqi finished, but the thought gave him pause. “As nice as that sounds, I’d be
safer running information down until I can find the traitor in your own
Kingdom. I defect while they’re still around, and I’m as good as dead anyways.”

He didn’t add on that he was pretty sure he was dead as soon
as he started this venture. He’d either be discovered before long, or defect
and get taken out by whoever they had on the inside of Insomnia. Rumor had it
that they were in a very high position of power. But it would be worth it, he
hoped. The war had gone on for far too long and the emperor seemed to no longer
care for the people.

Unforgivable in Loqi’s eyes.

It hadn’t taken much on Cor’s part to agree to be a spy. He
had defeated him in battle, again, and had been about to leave. It was just
chance that he started a conversation with Loqi. Mentioned how he hadn’t even
been trying during the fight. And Loqi, with nothing left to lose, told him his
doubts and fears about the Empire.

“I take it you still haven’t discovered who they are then?”
Cor asked.

Loqi shook his head. “Not at all. I think the only person
who knows who it is would be the emperor. But I do have other things, as
always.”

With that, they began talking. Loqi told all he knew about
the previous base he’d been in, the location of the next attack, and the newest
models of mechs that would be released soon, and where their weaknesses were
located. He even managed to sneak a few documents as proof, not to mention
copies of his own orders from the empire, which would result in Cor and him
fighting again soon enough.

Loqi after stating a few more tidbits of information that he’d
be chasing after soon enough, got to his feet.

“I need to get back now,” He glanced up at the sky, noting
how far the moon had moved. “Glacua is coming tonight, if he’s not already
there. Inspection of the fort.”

Cor managed to look alarmed by that, “And you came anyways?
Loqi.”

At that point, he was already by the edge of the haven. A
small breeze was at his back, a good omen. Perhaps he’d be back faster than he
got here.

“You should be more careful about this Loqi.”

Loqi only smiled and waved before jumping down to the
ground. And the second his feet hit the ground, he took off. There was something
easier about just running. He could have arranged for them to meet in a hotel,
but then, he wouldn’t get to take off his armor. He wouldn’t get this sense of
freedom, and the feeling that he was looking out for the people again.

The same iron giant swung at him again as he passed by, like
a person would swat at a fly, but Loqi was out of his reach long before the
sword struck the ground. Cor, from the Haven, watched his back as best he could
until he was out of sight. Loqi just kept running until the fort he snuck out
of was in sight. Slipping inside without being seen was easy. And soon enough
he was back in his room, the door still locked, and no sign anyone had noticed
he was missing.

With a relieved sigh, he sat on his bed and laid down. He’d
still get a few more hours unbothered, and he closed his eyes to rest before
Glacua arrived.

Dwell

September 11th: Enemy

Cor/Loqi, Cor Leonis/Loqi Tummelt

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 774

Warnings: Implied violence

Summary: Loqi, now that the war is ending, thinks about the
memories he has of the man he considers his only enemy, and what this means for the future.

Ao3 Link.

He stood proudly by the emperor’s side. His head was held
high and his expression unreadable. As a general of the empire should conduct
himself. Especially here in the enemy’s homeland. However, as he looked around
the Lucian throne room, always searching for threats, his eyes caught on those
of Cor Leonis’s. Then, as they held each other’s gaze, he wasn’t in the throne
room,

For a moment he was back on a battlefield, rain drumming
down around him, soaking him down to the bone. Coldness was seeping into his
limbs, his hair slicked down against his scalp, and he was out of breath. Cor
had destroyed his mech again, nearly at the beginning of the battle. He had no
choice but to fight. His hands shook around his blade every time he and Leonis
clashed, and in response he’d only hold it all the tighter. With his many
wounds, moving was pain.

But then he looked away and the moment was gone.

Countless times he and Cor had clashed. He wondered if he reflected
on their many battles just as Loqi was now doing. The fact that, once the
treaty was signed, they’d never fight again. Not seriously anyways. The
thoughts settled on Loqi’s chest like a stone.

He’d been made for war. Now that it would end, what would
become of him? Locked behind doors and thrust into politics, when would he ever
feel alive again. The answer was he wouldn’t. He’d be forced, eventually, to
marry a nice noble, a lady preferably. Then he’d argue alongside the emperor,
and his inner circle, about the fate of the empire.

He’d grow old.

The thought sat in his mind uncomfortably the whole duration
of the meeting with the Lucian king. Even while he watched for threats, eyes
occasionally catching on one of the guard’s shifting in their spot, he never
was able to fully push that discomfort from his mind.

It wasn’t until later, at the party the Lucians were holding
upon the citadel to celebrate the peace, that he’d finally put the thought out
of mind. But that was only because Cor came over and started talking to him.

“Didn’t think you’d be here.” He started, watching Loqi’s
reaction to him before continuing. “You seem like you’d be on the field till
the pen touches the paper.”

“I could say the same to you.” Loqi replied, his voice
taking on a diplomatic tone, “But the emperor required my presence here, not as
a general, but a witness for the signing.”

Cor nodded, “As leader of the Crownsguard, I was requested for
nearly the same.”

They glanced at each other, and both knew that was the
diplomatic answer they had been ordered to give. They were both there incase
things went bad. To clash once more, likely the last time, if there was one
misstep during the signing.

They were there to kill each other if it came to it.

“How about a toast then, Leonis.” Loqi offered his cup for
Cor to bump his own against, “To the end of this fighting.”

A phrase double in meaning. The fighting would end with the
treaty, yes. But also, if blood was shed here, one of them wouldn’t be walking
out of it alive. Their fighting would end in that sense too.

“To the future of both our countries.” Cor replied, his
meaning just as heavy, clinking their glasses together.

It felt final in a way. Either they’d already had their last
fight, or their last fight would happen tomorrow. And for a moment, Loqi
thought that was that. That he’d leave him alone or remain silent. But instead
Cor said one more thing.

“I bet you never thought you’d see the end of the war.”

This startled Loqi for one second, where he looked at Cor in
surprise. Cor didn’t meet his gaze though, choosing instead to take another
drink from his glass. Just from that, Loqi could tell that Cor was voicing part
of his own belief too. It was an honest and personal question. That he’d never
see the end. And so Loqi settled back into his bones and decided to be
truthful.

“No. Never.” He turned away and took a drink of his own cup,
and then said. “But here we are.”

“Here we are.” Cor echoed.

It was strange. Saying goodbye to Cor with loaded words and
half-truths, and it was the longest they’d ever spoken.

It almost felt like saying goodbye to a friend instead of
his enemy.

Only after that toast and final intonation that they fell
into a comfortable silence, waiting until the party was done.

chocobroness:

Here’s the one-shot I promised!

Prompto is like…8 In this. Can’t really decide.

I’m gonna leave this here before my anxiety tells me no.

—

He could always hear the singing, no matter what. He didn’t hear them that well but, sometimes when he was sad, or when it was night time and he was scared, the singing got just a bit louder. Like it was trying to make him feel better.

He liked the singing. Even if he didn’t know what the singing was. Even if he couldn’t hear what was being sung. He tried to explain it to him mom and dad, but they would only look at him oddly and say they couldn’t hear anything.

No one could hear it, and eventually he stopped talking about it. But he didn’t mind. Because it made him feel special, like the singing was just for him.

No matter where he went or how alone he was, the singing stayed with him. he liked that.

he liked the feeling of not being alone.

Today he had been a little excited, he was going on a trip to Galdin Quay with his parents, its been so long since they spent time together as a family and anytime spent with them was a treasure he did his best to cherish.

They had gotten there early morning to check in and had spent the day enjoying the beach and the yummy food. By night time, he had taken lots of photos with his camera, planning on sharing his photos with them later that night, like he used to when they were less busy with work.

Or he would have, had they not run into a business associate of theirs and soon been left to his own devices.

So here he was, hidden within the cover of night, sitting far away from the pier and watching the waves hit his bare feet.

He was told to be careful at night, because of the daemons they said, but he didn’t care, maybe his parents would notice him if he was in the dark long enough.

He closed his eyes. Paying attention to the soft singing that never leaves him, letting himself relax as it grew just a bit louder than normal.

“Now this is curious.”

“Ah!” He jumped and spun around, his heart pounding so hard against his chest. His eyes immediately landed on the one that frightened him.

His was really tall, taller than both his parents. his hair was kinda purple-lish red, and his eyes yellow but not really. The man was smiling as he walked closer to him.

“My apologies, I had no intention of startling you. Merely curious as to what a young boy like you was doing sitting alone at such a dangerous time.” Prompto ducked his head, hiding his face in his knees.

“Quite brave of you to be here.” The man continued, having now crouched down beside him, uncaring of the fact that his pant legs were getting wet.

“But bravery can also become foolish with enough quantities.”

“…M’sorry.”

“Quite alright child.” The tall man looked out to the sea, where the moon was large and full, almost touching the ocean line.

“Might I inquire your name?” Name? Oh, that’s right, he hadn’t given the man his name, mom would be mad if she heard that he was rude.

“I’m Prompto, nice to meet you.”

“A pleasure young Prompto, you may call me Ardyn” The talking stopped for a little while after, but Prompto didn’t mind, he just listened to the singing in his head, and he didn’t feel as lonely as usual with the strange man, Ardyn, next to him.

He closed his eyes and lost himself to the sound of the waves and the songs,

Songs that were surprisingly louder than normal.

He could almost make out words. Words he didn’t understand, words that seem so different than what he heard spoken by everyone around him, words that spun such pretty sounds.

And the man next to him was humming along to the very tune of the songs.

He looked at him, never having met another person who could hear the singing like him. Did that mean he wasn’t alone? That there was a reason he could hear the singing?

Ardyn glanced at the boy next to him and noticed him staring.

“Curious about my humming?” He smirked when Prompto seemed to realize what he was doing and turn red in embarrassment. But he nodded in response to his question.

“Well, its a special melody, not everyone can hear it. ” He seemed to be amused by his own words. “Not everyone gets a chance to hear it for long.”

“Is…"Prompto tried to figure out how to word it. “Is it special when you do hear it for a long time?”

Ardyn tilted his head, seeming to ponder the boy’s question.

“In a way, ” He started slowly. “There once was a time, that people knew of those who could hear the melody, many searched for those who could, but none could be found. Or rather, none wanted to be found.”

Prompto was now curious, not realizing that the singing grew louder, more possessive in a way.

“Why wouldn’t they want to be found?”

“They were very special. So special, the gods themselves were envious of them.For it was rumored that the songs they heard were connected to an entity that was more powerful than the combined power of the gods we worship today.”

“Woooow!” Ardyn chuckled at the look of amazement being shown by the boy.

“Indeed, But the gods were not pleased by the melody and demaned that no one listen to it again. Those that could, would not abandon the entity on the jealous whims of the six, so they hid, and the melody hid with them.”

“And no one heard about them again?”

“Indeed, lost to the seas of time and history.” Prompto couldn’t help but look down, thinking about what he heard. Why would they hide? Was it bad? Was a dangerous to be able to hear the singing?

“Oh no, They simply wished to be hidden, forgotten by the world.” Prompto blushed as he realized he spoke aloud.

“S-so that means no one could hear the singing anymore?”

“Well…not completely true. After all. I can.” Prompto perked up, the man’s face showing amusement.

“Really?’

"Of course, it would be useless to know of such people if I myself could not hear what they were known for.”

He could feel his heart pound heavily against his chest, because here was someone who could hear the same thing he could, that could tell him more about why he could hear them.

“I…”

“Hm…?”

Prompto was nervous, but his curiosity towards the subject was strong at this point.

“I…you..do you know how you can find out if someone can hear the singing too?” Ardyn stared at him, a moment of silence passed by them, Prompto fidgeting under his eyes.

”…Close your eyes” Prompto blinked in confusion, before doing so. After a moment of nothing, he felt of hand rest itself on his head.

“Huh?”

“Relax child.” Prompto took a deep breath and let it out, trying to do as he said.

He paid attention to the singing. listening to strange words that seemed so otherworldly.

He listened to them as they became louder than ever before.

Heard as the voices singing seemed to realize that they were becoming clearer to his ears. Felt as his being was flooded with their joy and pleasure at finally being truly heard.

So loud, the singing, it was as if he was surrounded by thousands and thousands of people, all wanting to be heard by him and him alone.

He never had anyone feel that way about him, not even his parents.

And here was this strange man, giving to him something he had wanted for so long in his short life.

He felt the hand leave his head, felt himself panic for a moment as the singing grew quieter, but immediately calming down when he realized he could still hear them clearly, still could make out different voices, and different words. So very different

but seeming to fit perfectly well within each other.

“Are you alright child?” He opened his eyes and looked at them man, gentle concern in his eyes. Prompto slowly reached up to touch his own cheeks.

They were wet, he had not realized he began crying, overwhelmed by such potent emotions.

“I’m glad I met you.” Was all he could say to the man, his voice hoarse as if he had cried greatly for hours.

“Oh?” The man seemed surprised at that, Prompto felt that he wasn’t surprised easily. But that didn’t matter to him.

“I’m not alone anymore.” He smiled at him, big and bright, and so very genuine.

“I can hear them now.” Ardyn didn’t seem to register what the boy was saying for a moment, having not felt this unaware in such a long time.

“I’m so happy. I could never hear them so clearly before! And it’s all because of you! All I want to do is sit here and listen to this singing forever!”

The man stilled at the child’s words.

“You can… hear them…truly.” But Prompto wasn’t paying anymore attention to him. Closing his eyes and focusing on the beautiful singing that was so wonderfully clear to him now, humming along to them, feeling the rush of joy that surged through him as the singing matched him tune for tune.

Ardyn watched the child slowly sway to the unheard song. A song no one else has heard since the fall of Solheim. Since he had walked down the path of immortality. He reached out. Gently grasping the boy’s head and pulling him close. Pressing his lips against golden locks with a tenderness that he had not used since those days so very long ago. When all that matter were him, his brother, and the future ahead.

“My dear, precious rarity.” He murmured quietly, closing his now bright golden eyes, the scourge exposing itself and listening alongside the boy to the songs and whispers of the daemons and souls beyond and within.

“The gods that damned me may not have planned for your birth, or for our meeting, but it seems Mother Eos and Lady Etro have granted me a gift i shall not take for granted.” He felt the daemons within, countless, separate from him yet all connected to one being, roar in what seemed to be agreement. As if placing claim on the boy themselves.

‘Somnus, if you could be here now.’ He thought, holding the boy close. ‘If you could be by my side and see this young child.’

“You won’t be alone Prompto.” He whispered in the language of old, the words slipping from his tongue as if he never stop speaking them. “Not anymore.“

—

(I would most certainly like if you told me what you thought of this. Please and thank you!)

Chirp Chpt 3: Reveal

Link to AO3: Chirp

Chapter Summary:

Prompto’s wings are examined and it’s decided that he’ll be staying in the citadel now.

Notes: This took a long time, and I half way almost lost where I was going. So this chapter is a little bleh. But hey, I now have a plot for it! So this should be the last aimless chapter.

It took a bit to reach Noctis’s room. Prompto had run a lot farther and faster than people had expected after all, but eventually they arrived. Cor knocked as his way of announcing himself, and then opened the door. Wordlessly, he gave a slight bow before entering the room. All eyes had turned toward the door by that point. The king and Clarus were among them, and of course, all Noctis’s circle. Prompto managed to stay behind Cor, mostly, at least until his uncle betrayed him and left him in plain view of everyone.

Without anywhere else to hide, he gave them all a sheepish smile and waved, “Hi guys?”

Noctis nearly flew at him from across the room and shook him by the shoulders once he was within arm’s reach. “Why’d you run? Half the citadel was looking for you!”

The concern on Noctis’s face would have been funny, in any other situation. But Prompto could only grimace in response. “I’m sorry, I panicked.”

“Panicked huh?” Gladio’s voice came from behind him, having snuck up while he’d been distracted. How someone as large as him could move so silently, Prompto couldn’t guess. And before he could dart away from what he knew was coming, he was already in a head lock and being noogied.

Prompto yelped, struggling for a good few moments before he managed to wiggle away. “I didn’t mean to bite you!”

“Oh, you didn’t mean to? Tell that to the teeth marks!”

“Come now, I’m positive he really didn’t mean to Gladio.” Ignis started, reaching up to slightly smooth down where Prompto’s hair had gotten messed up, though he knew by now that the cowlicks were a lost cause. “We all know he tends to act before thinking.”

Gladio opened his mouth to reply, but before they could get into any further teasing or argument, Clarus cleared his throat to cut in. “I believe we’re here for a reason?”

The four boys froze and then looked over at the adults, having forgotten they were there. Ignis dropped his hand and behind him his wings twitched once before becoming still again. Gladio cleared his own throat and turned to look out the window to hide the slight blush, his owns wings subtly pulling closer to his back. Noctis only stared back, too hyper aware that his father was in the same room as him to forget his presence, and Prompto looked like he’d jump out the window if given a chance.

New circles often forgot about everyone else in the world. It was just a side effect of finding your chosen family for the first few years. As such, most young winged people were easily lost in their own world, and even more easily startled by anyone else until they fully settle into their circles. And that only came with age. (Clarus and Regis recalled many times when their own circle had been startled by something when they were still settling.)

“Y-yeah.” Prompto sighed, breaking out of being startled first, and then allowed Noctis to fuss over him while being guided to the bathroom.

“You need to take that off Prompto. They just need to see.” Noctis said, and then lowered his voice, “Your wings…they aren’t hurt or anything from this right?”

“Not as far as I know.” Prompto replied in just as low a voice. “I’ll be right out Noct.”

“Okay.” Noctis then lightly pushed him inside and shut the door.

At first, he really did debate on going out the window, even though he’d already agreed to show them. But then he sighed and resigned himself to doing what they wanted. He didn’t want to disappoint Cor after all. (Not to mention Cor would probably literally swoop out the other window and grab him before he got too far.)

He made quick work of taking off his jacket, school top, and his under shirt. The binder itself however, always took a few minutes. The straps around his waist held most of his feathers against his back, while the top straps were more like a harness, pinning his wings flat against his shoulders. The waist straps were easy, feathers didn’t really feel anything unless you pulled them. But the shoulders?

The second his wings were free of his shoulders, he hissed as he moved them, allowing his wings to return to their naturally resting state. It was a huge relief, but also, for the first few minutes always ached. Blood circulating better he’d read. He was lucky that there hadn’t been any damage yet. However, he knew that eventually there would have been. Perhaps this was a good thing this happened when it did.

He put his shirt back on and pushed his wings through the wing holes that had never been used. It felt odd at first. He stretched his arms above his head, trying to let he back adjust to the freedom of movement, and the slight shift in balance he felt. Behind him, he extended his wings, examining them in the mirror.

While most the pattern had grown in, he still had the downy fluff of a child on the inside of his wings. But otherwise, the pattern was clear and there was no mistaking it. He worried his lip as he brought his wings back in, but miscalculated an accidently knocked off the soap dispenser from the bathroom counter. It landed with a clatter on the bathroom floor and before he could lean down to pick it up, there was a soft knock at the door.

“Prompto? You alright?” Noctis called, the worry in his voice setting off all the protective instincts a circle member could have.

So, he picked up the soap and placed back where it should be then walked to the door. With a deep breath, and a smile in place, he pulled it open.

“I’m alright Noct.”

It was then than the prince stepped out of the way, allowing for Prompto to cautiously make his way out of the bathroom. At the moment, any loud sound would probably spook him back into the bathroom. So, no one said anything until he was a bit further away from the bathroom door. His eyes darted around the room and he waited for them to say something, which they took as a sign that it was okay to speak now. But none knew how to start.

In the end, it was Gladio who spoke first.

“How the hell are you so small.” He said, a frown on his face. Prompto’s face immediately dropped into an offended frown.

“Gladio!” His father snapped, disapproval clear in his tone.

Gladio winced, but continued, “What? It’s true! He’s like, half the size he was when he went into the bathroom.”

“It’s because his wings were making his shoulders look bigger is all,” an accented voice cut in from the door way.

Prompto turned to look at the woman who stood there, her hand had been raised to knock but clearly, she couldn’t stop herself from explaining. Typical of owls. Her face was a mask now but being around Ignis made him able to see the slight embarrassment in her eyes. It made him give her a small smile, even though the doctor’s coat she had on was a little intimidating. But what truly settled her as a person he liked, was her last name.

“Ah, Dr. Kennt,” king Regis began, offering her a smile, “Good to see you again.”

Ignis spoke fondly of his flying teacher. Barn owl patterns were rare, and often needed a specific teacher to be found for young owls to learn how to fly. And she was his. That explained why Ignis looked slightly pleased. Seeing his circle and part of his pattern family in the same place clearly put him a good mood. (Good enough for pizza tonight? Maybe.)

“Your majesty,” She bowed her head toward him before continuing, “It’s good to see you as well.”

Her eyes looked Regis up and down before meeting his gaze and stating, “You haven’t been doing your stretches again.”

That made the Regis’s face slightly turn pink, and Noctis shoot a smug look at Gladio. A cough left Regis, “Well, more on that later. We need a wing check on Noctis’s young friend here.”

“Yes, your Grace.” Sunna then turned to Prompto, looking at his wings first, then his face. “Right, Scientia explained on the way. This won’t take long. Do you want everyone here for this, or would rather some privacy?”

“I…” He glanced at his friend and then the adults and then back at her, “I think I would prefer my friends here?”

“Right.” She nodded and turned toward the group, “I’ll be starting now.”

She gestured to a stool that she spotted to Prompto. “Can you sit there? That’ll let me examine your wings while you’re a bit more comfortable.”

He did so and tried not to squeak when he felt her feeling along the bones of his wings. She did so in silence for a bit, and he could think of nothing to say.

“Can you extend and hold them out please?” She then said.

“Oh. Sure.” He said quietly, before extending his wings out to his sides. She started feeling the bones again, starting from the outside this time. As the minutes passed though, it was getting increasingly difficult to hold them were they were. That was when she reached the base of his wings and started feeling his shoulders. It was then that she happened to push on a sore spot that Prompto didn’t know he had.

“Owch!” His wings pulled in quickly, accidently hitting Sunna on her shoulders, part of her wings, and face.

She shook her head slightly to reorient herself while Prompto turned around and stood in a panic.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to do that!” He started. But before he could work himself back into a frenzy, she cut in.

“No, no, it’s quite all right. Happens all the time.” She said, fixing some of the strands of hair out of her face, and then carefully pushed on Prompto’s shoulders to sit him back down, aware of what Ignis had described as a flighty nature. “I’m finished with the exam anyways. Just have a few questions now.”

“Really?” He was wringing his hands, as if he did something more horrible than bump her with his wings.

“Yes. Simple right?” She nodded to herself once she felt like she was presentable. Though, there was a feather out of place on her wings that Ignis stepped forward and straightened for her.

“Ah, thank you Ignis.” She smiled at him and then turned back to Prompto, “Now, what age did you start wearing this wing binder?”

“Uh…” Prompto thought back and tried to recall. “Nine I think.”

“So…right around when the down on your wings started changing into a pattern?” Sunna brought out a note pad and started writing her observations and his answer down.

“Yeah, that sounds right.” He started to chew on his bottom lip, “But…I really was hurt for a while, that’s what made the binder necessary when I was nine.”

“Can you tell me about it?” Sunna looked up at him, doing her best to hide her worry. If he was hurt and healed, but continued wearing the binder, then there might be complications.

“Well, it wasn’t anything too big? I mean…I followed a chickadee, the bird kind I mean, into a tree and sort of fell? It sprained one of my wings. It was…just luck really that it was around the time my pattern came in.” He turned slightly red.

She nodded, a little relived. A sprain wouldn’t have been too bad, and the binder would have helped the bone stay still and ensured the sprain wouldn’t develop into a break, nearly impossible to overcome if complications had set in. Of course, he wasn’t supposed to be wearing it for so long.

“Did you choose to wear it, even past healing?” An uncomfortable question, but necessary. If his parents made him, it might be a case of child neglect. If he chose to, then it might mean he was trying to hurt his wings. Some of the younger winged people did hurt their own wings when distressed. Mostly plucking, but the odd binding cases did appear every so often.

“I did.” He answered quickly and looked faint. Possibly a lie, but she’d take it for now until trust was built.

“Hm.” She nodded her head and wrote her thoughts down as well, “And one last question, your birthday?”

He answered her, and she frowned. “Ah…well.”

“Is something wrong?” Noctis called, finally unable to resist going over to his friend.

“No, not…Well, it could be worse.” She said, straightening up and then turning to address the king to report. “He’s fine. Wing are normal and healthy, other than some muscle weakness from lack of use, and late stage development.”

“And that means…?” Cor asked before the king could say anything.

“It means he’s still growing.” She turned to Prompto and then looked at the prince standing beside him. “Prompto, if you wouldn’t mind standing?”

“Huh? Oh, sure.” He stood up and then glanced around, unsure what everyone was seeing.

“He’s the same age as his highness, but…”

It was then that he realized what she was talking about. Noctis had at least four inches on him and was a lot broader than him.

“If I didn’t know his age, I would have placed him at Eleven or Twelve. Not 15.” She said, and that made him flush bright pink. “He even still has some of his juvenile feathers.”

She gently turned him around and gestured to the bits of down still at the base of his wings, but then let him go. “You can sit down with your friends now.”

He nodded but didn’t really get much of a say really. Noctis practically dragged him over to where he and the others were sitting and didn’t give him much space either. Once he was settled, Sunna continued.

“Prompto here will be perfectly fine, and his wings are healthy, like I said,” She wrote something else down and then put her note book away. “But his body will start trying to catch up to where it’s supposed to be. Wings especially. And…”

She glanced over at Ignis, then back at the king, “Judging by the muscle tenderness and his feathers, he won’t be able to fly yet.”

“I see.” Regis nodded, and seemed thoughtful. “Thank you Doctor. You can go now.”

She bowed again, and then said, “Thank you, your majesty.”

They were silent until she was gone, and then the four once again burst into chatter.

“Told you he was small.”

“Oh stuff it, aren’t kestrels tiny anyways? Maybe this is normal?”

“Your highness, she just said he was still growing. Besides, Crowe isn’t as small.”

“She thought I was eleven! Are you kidding me?”

This time Regis was the one to clear his throat. “Prompto. You do realize what this means right?”

The four sobered at that, and Prompto said quietly. “That I’ll be staying in the citadel, right?”

He didn’t want to. But he doubted they would let him go. Maybe if he cried? They said he looked like a child, so maybe he’d make them feel bad enough to release him. Or not. He doubted he had the energy for tears.

“Yes. But you needn’t worry. Everything will be taken care of.” Regis rose to his feet then, Clarus helping him stand.

He was going to leave, so Prompto decided to ask before he was gone. “Your Majesty? What about my parents? Or my things? I know you said things will be taken care of. But…”

“Your parents will be located and the situation explained. As for your things, we could send someone to get them tonight, or it could wait until tomorrow. I was informed, while looking for you, by Noctis that you’d planned on staying the night?”

He nodded. “I guess…getting anything else can wait until tomorrow. I have enough for the night.”

“Very well. Tomorrow we will have someone go with you to pack your things. Perhaps even Lady Crowe? She seemed keen on spending time with you. …Noctis, if you stare like that for too long your face will get stuck that way.”

Prompto turned around and saw the wide-eyed face Noctis was making for a brief moment before he ducked his head and a flush overtook his face, “Yes father.”

It made Prompto snicker, and he nodded. “Okay.”

“But we’re going too.” Muttered Noctis behind him, jealousy on full display, and Prompto struggled not to laugh.

“With that, I bid you all good night. And please, don’t harass the glaive and use your friends as an alibi this time Noctis?” Regis said, a smile on his face as he left. Clarus shot a look at Gladio, who pointedly was looking at the ceiling. He suspected the young shield had helped the prince, but had no proof. Only Noctis had gotten caught last time. Cor, who’d been mostly silent, stayed behind for a moment.

“I’ll be the one to tell your mom kid. I also have a few questions.” He said, walking over and rustling his hair.

Prompto sighed and then looked up at him, “You’re…not going to be mad at them, are you?”

Rather than lie, Cor said, “We’ll see. Alright? Even if we do we’re siblings. I doubt Adoria would let me be upset with her for long.”

“I guess.” Prompto let out a small laugh, “Just…I don’t want them to worry. Or to be in trouble.”

“They won’t be. Alright? I got to go now. I’ll be seeing you.”

“See you Cor.” He said and offered him a small wave. Cor shut the door behind him, and he immediately felt relaxed now that it was just his friends.

Once they were alone though, Noctis grabbed the nearest pillow and whacked Prompto over the head with it.

“You should have told me!”

Prompto knew exactly what he was talking about, and picked up where they left off, “Oh, what was I supposed to say! Hey, I’m a kestrel, don’t tell anyone?”

“Yes!”

“That’s ridiculous!”

They bickered back and forth for a while, but there were no teeth in their argument. (Just a few more whacks with a pillow from Noctis to drive how flustered Noctis was about the how ordeal home.)

They settle into gaming and Ignis really was in a good enough mood to order pizza rather than cook. Gladio didn’t hold it against him for biting him thankfully, although he did seem to hold a grudge against him for beating him in moogle cart. With how normal the night was turning out, it made Prompto think things might be okay.

Hey loves. Mini update.

Health problems hit me again and I’m trapped in bed. Pfft. I was working on the next chapter of chirp before that though. I swear this blog is still active, it’ll just take me a while to get to the point of feeling up to writing again. Feel free to send prompts and stuff in the mean time. I might not get to them all when I feel better, but I’ll certainly try. 😁

Also, suggestions on what you want to see? Pairings and such. That’d be nice.

Hibiscus

LeviathanxReader

Notes: PFFT This is a pairing I never thought I’d be writing, but I saw this odd/hilarious/cool post about how to woo Leviathan. ~~(And I hate that I had to read the word Hydrussy BUT HEY ITS A COOL IDEA.)~~ Like, this small idea took off in my head and the only way to get it out was to write it. (This is all @joioliviapolaroid‘s fault pfft, hope you don’t mind I wrote this.)

Summary: You’ve spent your life in love with the sea, and she just happened to like you enough not to kill you on sight the first time you met. 2969 words.

It started when you were young.

At the time, you were a child playing in the ocean. The waves pushed at your shins as you danced in the tide. The water was a soundless song, the tempo dictated by the moon’s cycle. Part of you wondered why the water followed it so closely, but the rest of you didn’t want to think, enjoying the water in the way only a child could. You saw beauty and peace where adults would look at the waves with fear.

Maybe that’s why you saw her.

Playing in the water had caused you to lose track of time. The sun was almost all the way down, and moon just beginning to rise. A rare twilight, where both moonlight and sunlight met on the beach. What pulled you out of your revelry was the sight of a woman in the water as you were. Only she wasn’t dancing. She stood still and looked to the horizon.

She was gorgeous, in a way you couldn’t quite name. Her skin was dark, the color of sharp rocks near the cliff, darkened by the water that was constantly sharpening their points. A rich black that could only come from the combination of earth and sea. Across her body were bright blue tattoos. So reflective was the ink, it was as if the waves depicted on her were taken right from the sea in the middle of a bright sunny day. Her face was warm and strong, and her eyes were hard. But not cold. Rather, they were deep. Dark and soothing. There was no other way to describe them. And her dress blended seamlessly with the sea foam at her ankles, flowing around her legs as if there was a gentle breeze.

And while she was so gorgeous, you were a child. So the only thing you fixated on was the bright red flower tucked behind her ear, held in place by her many braids. It didn’t take long for you to walk up to her, and while normally, the sight of another person to play with would have brought you running, something inside you told you to walk. To be on your best behavior. And upon reaching her, she turned to look at you, a subtle look of surprise on her face. With her eyebrows slightly raised, she knelt in the water to be on your level.

“Hi.” You said softly, shyly, which was out of character for you. “Why do you have that flower in your hair?”

She tilted her head slightly, and seemed to regard you with rarely used curiosity. When she spoke, it was the same song of the tides that met your ears.

“It was made for me, and so it is my favorite.”

And with that, she rose back to her feet, seemingly having sated her curiosity.

“Child, run back the way you came.” Without touching your shoulders, she guided you to turn around. “Go, and do not look back.”

With words so grave, you felt compelled to listen, and did as she wished. It wasn’t until you were back on the grass further up from the beach, your family’s home in sight, that you felt safe enough to turn around. You watched as she stepped out of the water, and walked along the beach. But then, while you were watching, she slowly faded out of sight. Where her hand had hovered above your shoulder, a mark of two lines appeared. Like her own tattoos, they depicted waves. Only, it looked like a birthmark rather than the blue of her own, and for years to come would be unnoticed by you.

That night, your mother told you to story of Leviathan, a feared beast, the anger of the ocean. Mother of the tides and spirit of the deep. Your mother also told you of how people used to worship her, pray to her, and she never listened. Taking loved ones and drowning them. The vicious waves and currents that could steal someone from the beach if they dared turn their back on her. Cruelly ending lives before they’d begun. People vanishing on the water never to be seen again. She was to be feared, reviled, but respected.

But that day, the woman had given you a gift. Now, when you looked at the tides, the song that was once silence had turned into symphonies of creation and destruction in equal measure.

When you were a teenager, you’d gone back to the beach many times, nearly daily, hoping to get a glimpse of the woman again. The threat of daemons rising from the sands nearby, and the long trek home in the dark, did not daunt you. You’d learned from the hunters how to evade, and were aided by the sand refusing to give under your feet when you ran. Of course danger was ever present, but there was no where you felt safer than the beach.

Now that you were older, you were sure that the woman you had seen that day had been the goddess of the sea herself. Only, you’d never seen her again after that night. But you held faith in your heart, and had nothing but kind thoughts for the goddess. In the water, before the sunset and after the moon rose, you would leave flowers on the edge of the waves. Red ones. Always red. The next morning when you’d come back, some of them would be returned to you, sitting on the sand as if the water had rejected them.

But the red hibiscus flowers were always gone.

Eventually, you’d stopped bringing all others, and even made a ritual out of talking to the waves about your day when you’d sent them. As long as you knew that someone was there, listening silently, it helped you when you were hurt, and made you happy when you weren’t. Occasionally, on certain days, you’d whisper old prayers that you’d learned from an old woman in town. Ones that still remembered the goddess before her rage, and offered her the respect and reverence that had been stripped from her when all that man spoke of was her anger.

They spoke of protection, and of a long-forgotten title.

Sometimes, you’d read from your journal that you kept of writing and drawings. Poems you’d written for her, made from the memory of a child who didn’t know she was supposed to be feared. And as you aged, you spoke of her beauty, never mentioning the danger she was known for. You wrote of the sea as a person, capable of anger and love. Some of them were ever written to the melody of the waves, becoming instead songs of the sea. Drawings of the memory of her tattoos, colored to match their brilliance. But you’d never been able to capture their exact color. Portraits of her eyes. The hem of her dress as it had blended into the foam. There were also drawings of ships and sailors preparing to leave the shores. Or the hibiscus flowers you grew and would pick just for the ocean.

And for the first time that day, you’d finished a journal.

As you thumbed through its contents while sitting on the sand, you realized you didn’t know what to do with it. Poems no one else had read, drawings never seen by anyone but you.

It felt right, when you cast it into the waves with the flower.

“It’s for you.” Was all you said that day, and then you turned and left to go back home.

As an adult, people were beginning to whisper about you. You’d grown unparalleled in beauty, unrivaled in kindness, and known for having a strange connection to the sea. There were many suitors that you’d rejected in your small seaside town, and all would meet unlucky fates at the hands of the waves. As if the sea itself was warning them away from trying again. And for the few that insisted on trying to force you into a relationship you didn’t want, it was rare they came back from their next trip on the sea.

Some began calling you Leviathan’s kindness. Her priestess. The woman who was given gifts from the waves. Whereas people knew that the goddess was anything but kind and would only hurt those who dared to try crossing her waters, you could heal with what she would use to hurt.

Women would come to you for multiple reasons. Some for love spells, to give a man’s heart a nudge, or to grant him the courage needed take the next step. Those spells were easy, but would take time. Others to escape. For a way out of their situation. To heal their bruises and their souls. Those were longer, but took effect almost instantly.

“Take this seashell, and when you see him next, crush it over your heart. And then you shall be free from the love you feel for him.” You told one woman, who’s eye you had helped heal with sea water when it had been swollen shut. You ensured that she wouldn’t be blind in that eye, and the rest of her bruises, after being massaged with a paste of hibiscus petals and sea foam, were gone by the next day.

You placed the seashell in a sachet of linen, easily hidden in the front pocket of the woman’s shirt, and handed it to her. “Then you must take a boat away from here, but have no destination in mind. Cast away your oars and lay down in the boat and sleep. She will take care of you if you trust her. When you arrive at safety, throw a bottle with words you feel are right back into the water.”

“Thank you,” The woman said, “Thank you so much.”

Others began to call you a sea witch.

“Where is she?!” The man raged, days after the woman’s visit, throwing the things in your home into disarray. Papers strew about in rage, books thrown carelessly on the floor, bottles of water upended, and seashells, the gifts the sea left for you, smashed to pieces. Outside, you could feel a storm building in your bones.

With the sea behind you outside the window, with its song ever present, you were brave.

“Gone. You’ll never hurt her again.”

Your eyes were as cold as the sea in winter, and he continued raging. The man wanted to get his way. He threw a piece of broken bottle at you, it’s jagged end catching your cheek. You allowed the blood to drip down your face and fall to the floor, where it mixed with the sea water he’d spilled. The cut was deep, but you didn’t care.

But she did.

The sound of a bellowing scream came from the sea, and the man paled.

“Witch!” He spat, before fleeing your home to run back to the town.

You’d never heard that sound from the sea before, and went outside to see what could have made it. But also, to show that you were unharmed. And the only thing you saw was the crashing of the waves on the sand.

That night, the song changed. Creation had never sounded so soft, nor destruction so soothing. Barefooted, you left your home and walked down to the beach, and then into the water to stand where you were when you were a child. This time it was fully night, but the moon was already setting. Yet, even with the difference, you could feel her there. You took a few steps further out into the sea, and waited. And when you felt that it was time, you turned around.

There she stood, ankle deep in the ocean, looking exactly as she did all those years ago. It was as if she had never left that spot. But this time she beckoned to you. The movement was like a siren’s call, and you couldn’t do anything else but follow.

Slow measured steps, following her at a respectable distance. You never took your eyes off her, a feeling warning you away from doing so. Not that you wanted to. The woman, goddess, you’d been talking to and offering prayers for years was in front of you. The same deity that granted you gifts and your connection to the sea. Why would you look away?

Upon stepping on the sand, it felt different, but you didn’t dare look down. It was as soft as powder, yet you knew if she willed it, it could shred your feet in seconds. It was the feeling of the sand, cool yet warm under your feet, that let you know this wasn’t the beach you had just been on. No, this was a place between the water and the sea sand of your home. A place only she could come.

And she’d brought you.

You followed her on this endless beach, the water behaving strangely to the right of you. Your connection to the water, to her, allowed you the knowledge of knowing not to touch the water again now that you’d left it. The song was wrong.

When the sun started rising, you could see a small cottage. The wood was weathered, like it had seen many sea storms and was rubbed smooth by the sand around it. She entered first, and given that she hadn’t told you to stop following, you went inside too.

Your eyes, even though you just came in from outside, didn’t need to adjust to the change in lighting. A strange sort of ease settled over you the moment you came through the door. It was like coming home. And all around the cottage, you could see the flowers you’d sent her. Eternally kept alive, some gathered in bushels, some strung up on the walls. But the best ones had their stems held in the pages of the journals she had collected over the years.

When you went to walk further into the cottage, strong arms wrapped around you from behind. Her skin was cool and thrummed with energy unending. You wanted nothing more than to turn around to see her face. But you held still. One of her hands drifted up to your face, turning your injured side toward her. You closed your eyes the moment she pressed a kiss to the cut, and suppressed a hiss of pain as it healed. The healing she did always felt like rubbing salt in the wound until it was finished.

After she finished, it was then that she reached down and held your hands in hers, trapping you in her embraces and your own. You leaned back, pressing your head against her shoulder, and finally allowed yourself to look up at her. She met your stare with her own, and you found something like love there. You knew that gods could not love like mortals do, but what was in her eyes rant as deep as the deepest part of her domain.

It was then that she interrupted your thoughts. Her hand resting against your cheek again, she leaned down and pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth, teasing. But then she pressed her lips to your and let you turn around in her arms. Her hand then slid back to fist in your hair, pulling your head back to kiss at your neck, lingering on your pulse. It felt like the tide had swept you away and soon you lost yourself to her.

It was after, when you lay in a tangle of blankets at her side, with her eyes watching your every move, that you spoke.

“Why me?” You asked, your voice as small as the day you met. You were human, insignificant compared to the eternity of her life. And while you loved her, you knew it was not returned. A god couldn’t feel love as a human does after all.

She was silent for a moment, appearing to gather her thoughts while tracing your collar bones with feather light touches. But then her hand trailed over to your shoulder and slowly, she began to hold you so tightly, her nails began to leave indents in your skin.

“I think you were made for me, and so you are my favorite.” Was her answer, and a part of you felt uneasy at the thought of being a belonging of the goddess. But another part of you recalled her fondness of the Hibiscus flower, and how it has spanned centuries. Since the first moment, according to the story, that Titan created it and gifted it to her, in memory of a woman she had failed to protect, coloring the petals with the woman’s blood.

And so you smiled, and leaned forward to press another, this time chaste, kiss to her mouth which she gladly returned.

All the town’s people found on the beach, the night after you went missing, was your footsteps going into the tide. Some side that Leviathan had finally killed the last of her compassion, and now only her anger was left. But the women whispered of Leviathan calling you home. Of you having gone to her side as your reward for being so faithful to the sea.

Sometimes, people would see the image of you walking on the beach, hand in hand with a woman who’s features no one could quite make out. And it is said, to this very day, that if you were in trouble and needed to find safety, that you could walk the beach and a woman might appear before you, offering advice and magic to aid you. People, every year on the day you vanished, would set red hibiscus flowers onto the sea. Both for Leviathan, and the woman who remembered that the goddess, though thought of as cruel, was kind.

Hi!! I was wondering if you would mind fulfilling a request? Ignis and reader aren’t together, but he starts getting jealous of the boys flirting with them! (Little does he know they do it on purpose to make him confess to her huhuhu)

He knows he’s staring, and he doesn’t mean to.

Ignis Scientia prides himself on being a man with a great deal of patience and self-control. He knows for a fact that he’s better at it than the majority of people. But unfortunately for him, he was running out of both.

It all started after Insomnia fell. They’d seen the city from the distance, and from that day on spent the day in a numb haze. Going to the Marshal, collecting the blades, and then finally allowing themselves rest at a haven. Everyone was in a somber mood, but he’d found himself glancing at you every so often.

He thanked the Astrals that he hadn’t lost any of his brothers nor the one he loved. Which in turn made him realize he did love you, and while he wanted to tell you as soon as he realized it, he held off. So soon after loss wasn’t the time for declarations of love.

Then, more things came up. It just…Wasn’t the time. Between travelling, the covenants, hunting, and looking for tombs, he kept pushing it back. Not the time.

Now he was watching you training with Gladio, back pressed to his torso as he guided your hands to to proper placement for your weapon. His hands covering yours. And while he knew Gladio was nothing but professional when it came to training, he couldn’t quell the surge of jealousy he felt in his chest.

And it only got worse when Gladio suddenly wrapped one arm around your waist and lifted you off your feet with a grin. You started laughing of course, kicking your feet and trying to get away. (Only half-heartedly it looked like, to Ignis’s jealous eyes.)

“Uh…Iggy?” Prompto called, bringing his attention away from you and Gladio. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” He said sharply, indicating that something was indeed wrong. And with unusually observational eyes for once, Prompto evaluates him, seemingly calculates, and then raises his hands in surrender. He knows when to back off, and leaves Ignis to his thoughts.

If the food was a little burned that night, no one mentioned it.

The second time it happened, Prompto and you were playing with the Chocobo chicks. The both of you were sitting cross legged on the ground, facing each other. Multiple chicks were hoping around you, clamoring for your attention, or to claim some of the space in your lap to enjoy your warmth.

You smiled, and Ignis nearly melted at the sight. Your face was relaxed, and your eyes soft, as if you’d just woken from a lovely dream. But then a sharp stabbing jealousy lanced through him, when he realized that smile and stare was directed at Prompto. So he forced himself to turn away, shaking his head as if he could shake the feelings out of it.

“Hey specs, whats with the face?” Noctis was beside him, and looked genuinely concerned about him.

“I don’t know what you mean.” He replied, managing to wrangle the glare from his face and force a neutral mask back in place.

Noctis glanced at him, and then over at you before saying, “Riiight…”

He left it at that, not wanting to bring down his adviser’s wrath on himself.

He was getting tired of these feelings and frustrated that he didn’t know what to do.

You and Noctis sat down on the dock of the Quay, feet hanging in the water even though the prince was loath to do so. It scared away the fish. Both of you were simply basking in the sun like a pair of cats, occasionally flicking water at each other with your feet. He didn’t know what you two were talking about, but the smiles on your face made his heart clench.

“You know, it’d be a lot easier if you just told them Iggy.” Gladio spoke behind him.

Ignis glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”

Gladio in turn rolled his eyes, “You don’t fool me. How you’re acting is obvious. If you like them, say something.”

Ignis chose not to answer him instead of replying, going back to watching both you and Noctis. But then you seemed to feel his eyes on you, turned around to wave, and gave him a bright smile. He couldn’t help the knee jerk reaction of smiling warmly back and holding up a hand in greeting. You then turned away and he was stuck hearing Gladio give a disbelieving snort.

“See?”

Ignis, with a mild bit of embarrassment, only replied, “You…may be right.”

It was later, when the boys were away rough housing in the sand, you two ended up alone preparing dinner. You were chopping vegetables, while he prepared a broth to make soup. You were both silent, but it was a companionable one. At least, until you broke it.

“You know, the boys have been saying some interesting things these past couple days.” You started, a fond smile on your face.

Ignis’s hands faltered in stirring the broth, as if the thought of the past few days bothered him. “Oh, have they? Anything I could be concerned about.”

A soft laugh left you, “Nothing that should worry you. They mean well.”

“You make me wonder just what they told you.” He hid behind a smile and stared at the pot as if it might run away with the broth.

So intently was he staring, he didn’t notice that you had come up beside him, not until you leaned up and pressed against his side. He froze, his eyes widened, and the very rare event of his mind turning to static happened. You watched his face for any negative reaction, and upon seeing none gave him a nervous smile.

“It started with Gladio,” you began, “When we were training, he saw that you were watching us more so that usual. I thought it was because you were worried, but he claimed it was because of something else, but refused to tell me.”

A slow blush started creeping onto his face, and you took that as a sign to hold his hand, gently, softly enough that if he wanted to pull away, he could.

But he didn’t.

“Then at the chocobo ranch, Prompto mentioned how you were glaring at him, and he was scared to look over at you in case you were mad at him. But you weren’t mad…were you.”

Subtly, he shook his head, finally turning to look at you.

“Then Noctis today. He flat out told me you were jealous. I thought he was teasing me, but…It gave me enough hope and bravery to do this.”

It was then that you leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “He told me to act on how I’ve felt, and how he said you felt, for a long time.”

“He’s…not wrong.” Finally, a blush in earnest took over his face, and he covered his eyes with his hands, “I…Yes, I care for you. Deeply. I’ve been meaning to tell you, but…”

“It was just never the time.” You finished and smiled even brighter. “They were doing it on purpose you know. Making you jealous. They wanted you to confess.”

You didn’t need to say anymore, because he uncovered his face and leaned down, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “They’re going to be insufferable when they find out it worked.”

“But it was a for a good cause.” You laughed.

The rest of the night, you spent talking about nothing, simply enjoying the other’s voice, and holding hands when neither of you were busy. The boys, contrary to what you both thought, were perfectly behaved….

For that night at least.