Tag: final fantasy 15

Messenger

LeviathanxReader

Notes: NEVER EXPECTED TO DO A FOLLOW UP. Yet, someone left me a nice comment over on AO3, and I got hit over the head with some inspiration for a continuation. 

Summary: You’ve lived years with the Goddess of the sea, but it couldn’t last. Not yet anyways. There’s something you need to do first. 2080 words. 

It had been ages since you had walked into the sea’s
embrace. Thousands of years. You’d watched your village rise and then fall, and with them went the
hibiscus offering that were once yearly. Familiar landmarks had become
weathered away and foreign. Even your name had vanished into the years. But you
knew peace at Leviathan’s side. You didn’t know how your life had become so
prolonged and didn’t care enough to ask. All you knew was that you were
content.

Then there came a day when your small slice of the heavens
had another, a stranger to you, set foot on the sands of Leviathan’s
beach.  

“Who are you?” You called as you stood up straight, a basket
of seaweed on your hip, and hair trailing over your shoulders.

The woman stood on the beach with two dogs, her eyes closed
and a small, soft smile on her face. She was dressed richly in blacks and
golds. Her hair long and straight. The dogs at her side, an unfamiliar sight,
were opposites. One with a white coat, and dark markings around her eyes, and
the other with a black coat with white around his eyes.

How you knew what they were, you didn’t understand.

“The girl has been chosen yet doesn’t know her calling.” The
woman suddenly spoke and opened her eyes. The most brilliant green stare pinned
you in place, and all at once you knew who she was.

“Forgive me.” You quickly knelt on one knee in the tide,
bowing your head, “I didn’t recognize who you were, Lady Messenger. Leviathan
is in her home, if you wish to speak with her.”

You didn’t even feel the woman come near you until her hands
came to rest on your face and guided you into looking up at her. They were
cold, not like Leviathan’s sea cooled skin, but called to mind frozen lakes,
snow, and wind. You had to suppress a shiver as you met her gaze.

“The Tide Mother is not what beckons me here.” She said,
studying your face. “You are the one I needed to see.”

You couldn’t help the surprise that flashed across your
face, “Me? What could you need of me Lady Messenger?”

The Messenger guided you to your feet and took your hands to
hold in her own. But when she opened her mouth to speak, a wrath filled yell
echoed through the air, and all at once you were torn from the messenger’s
hold.

“Trespasser! Sneak!” Leviathan hissed, in her mortal form,
now standing with you wrapped in her arms. “I forbid all others from my realm!”

“You would hide the girl from her calling.” The woman
replied, her eyes flashing a pale blue for a single moment. And seeing it made
your heart leap into your throat. There was danger in those eyes, something you
weren’t sure that even Leviathan could hold her own against.

The hold on you tightened, and you felt Leviathan pressed
her face into your hair. But what you couldn’t see was that her eyes remained
uncovered and peered over your hair at the messengers. And even further behind
you both, serpents made of water had risen from the tides, fangs bared and
twisting through the air.

“You knew the cost of taking in a mortal, mother of the
tides,” She continued, taking a step forward. An almost inaudible hiss left Leviathan,
only heard by you due to how she was pressed against you. “Daughter of the
deep. The time has come for her to join us.”

A gasp left you when the messenger stepped onto the water
and it froze under her feet. Solid blocks of ice that touched the sea floor
that were unmoving.

“W-what is she talking about?” You asked quietly, a slight
tremble beginning to run through you. The water around all of you was nearly
ice, something that you had become unfamiliar with since Leviathan brought you
here. You were cold for the first time in a long time.

A few moments of silence passed, with you and Leviathan
simply standing in the tide together. Then she finally started to answer, “Mortals
are not meant for long lives. Nor are the creatures of Eos.”

You glanced up at the messenger and frowned. Her eyes were
closed again, but this felt like it should have been a private conversation for
the two of you. So, with one of the gifts that Leviathan had given you, you
waved your hand and a small curtain of water cut you off from the messenger. Only
then did you turn around in Leviathan’s arms, or rather you tried. When she
felt you move she tightened her hold on you, as if worried you would try to get
away.

“Dearest, please.” You whisper.

Reluctantly she began to loosen her hold but didn’t let you
go. Not entirely. As if she was scared you would willingly leave her arms. So,
you got to see the slightest hint of surprise on her face when you only turned
around. But then it was gone, and you could feel her arms relax. In turn, you
wrapped your arms around her waist and laid your head on her shoulder.

When both of you settled, Leviathan calmed by your
heartbeat, she began to speak again, “A deal, made long ago, was struck among
the gods. This deal was to find up to four we each found worthy, and name them
to a group that would never exceed 24.”

Something like discomfort began to settle into your stomach
as she continued, “The 24 would guide the bloodline of healers, until the last
of the line disappears from this world. These 24 were named messengers. The
Infernian selected two creatures of Eos, but no more, refusing to choose any
among men for fear of further betrayal. The Glacian selected only one, finding
one among the mortals serving the founder king of Lucis as the first shield, a
woman of grace and strength named Gentiana.”

She paused then, and for the first time since you’d come
here, you could hear the slightest waver in her voice, “A fourth chosen, gifted
long life and the strength of the sea by the Hydraean.”

You pulled your head off her shoulder and looked into her
eyes, shock playing across your face.

“Found worthy through the devotion and compassion, earning a
place among the 24.”

You were speechless, stunned by the revelation. So much so
that you didn’t notice that she waved a hand at the water wall you’d called,
and it fell back into the sea. It was only when you felt icy hands on your arms
that you realized you were back on the beach, moved there by Leviathan’s
strange magic. But also, when you turned your head to look, you saw that
Gentiana was the one who was holding onto you now as well.

“She must complete her calling.” She intoned, “Then the girl
will be able to return with her reward.”

“I don’t want a reward.” You said turning away from the
woman, Gentiana you reminded yourself, and looking up at Leviathan. “I want to
stay with you.”

Leviathan looked like she was about to say something, but
then shut her mouth and shook her head, her braids falling over her shoulders. “You
must go, all the same. No god magic could keep you from going.”

“B-but…” You were scared. You didn’t want to leave her side,
and yet she relaxed her hold on you and willingly pushed you away. The
messenger’s hands squeezed for the briefest of seconds, as if meant to be comforting,
and then let go. But one did hold your hand and begin guiding you toward where
the dogs sat.

You realized then that you were going. Right at that moment.
Before you could get much farther, you turned your head and met Leviathan’s
eyes, which were watching you walk away.

“I’ll come back.” You found yourself saying. “When this is
done, and I complete whatever it is, I’ll return to you.”

She pressed her lips together, as if trying her best to keep
her face neutral. You hated when she did that. Because behind her, the water
was churning, as if there was a storm in the air. Proof that she didn’t want
you to go either.

“The girl lives up to her title.” Gentiana said while still
gently pulling you along, “The devoted. You’ll find your reward more than
enough.”

It was only then, that you turned to look at your fellow
messenger, hissing. “Tell me what it is, and I’ll decide for myself if it’s
enough for awaking the ire of a Goddess.”

“It is true, the sea has been kinder since you were named
one of us.” She said, and then stopped when you were standing by the two dogs. “It’ll
be crueler while you’re away we imagine. But the reward has always been to
spend eternity among the gods if we so choose. Once our duty is complete, we
keep our eternity.”

That made your heart clench. Leviathan wanted eternity with
you as well, which you knew, but to KNOW was something else. “Then I’ll do it.
I don’t have a choice, but it feels like I do now. We complete our task, and I
return to Leviathan’s side.”

Gentiana opened her eyes again, this time smiling, and
simply nodding her head. With a sigh, you steeled yourself for whatever the
future held for you, and allowed the other messengers to whisk you away.

~

Leviathan watched from the beach as she left, and already
this place, crafted for you, felt a lot less welcoming to her. The water was
churning behind her, years of pent up energy inside the waves. It had been
restless, missing the days when Leviathan hadn’t been tempered by your
presence. She turned away from the beach and began to walk across the sands,
meaning to walk into the water and return to her truer form. But then something
caught her eye, and she turned to look.

In the waves, having washed up onto the sands, was the
basket of seaweed you’d been collecting. It caused her to pause again, and
inside her chest she could feel something grip what was her heart in this body,
and squeeze. She swallowed hard and then turned back to the water, looking into
it.

She didn’t know how to deal with missing someone. She hadn’t
been able to deal with it before, and she couldn’t deal with it now. Especially
since messengers could die before fulfilling their calling. Cupita, her messenger,
could die, just as Hibiscus the mortal did. And the older god Titan wouldn’t be
able to turn her into a flower for Leviathan to remember her this time. He was
under that accursed rock. She could lose all traces of her. Forever. She could feel
her breathing quicken, and her chest began to rise and fall rapidly. It was too
much.

She fell to her knees and let out a scream.

The sea became violent in a way that hadn’t been seen for
thousands of years, tossing and turn with waves higher than the cliffs that
surrounded their home. Leviathan poured out her energy into the waves, and they
reveled in the chaos. It made her feel better, at least until Leviathan
actually looked out into the sea. She saw the chaos and destruction and
wondered if Cupita would have approved. And when she found the answer lacking
she forced it all to stop. Her hands shook as she got to her feet, scared, for
the first time, of the destruction she could cause on a whim.

She didn’t want that.

Instead of letting out all her emotions and pushing them
into the waves, she walked into the water and allowed it to take her to a long-forgotten
altar, built by mortal hands after the god’s war had ended to long ago. There,
she was lucky. A few humans were doing a rite, trying to appease her. It had
been days of storms for them apparently, yet only felt like moments to her. She
turned into her serpent form and did as their story of her suggested.

She went to sleep, and the water turned calm before their
eyes. She’d sleep until the last Oracle came to wake her. Perhaps then Cupita
could return, or at the very least, she’d be able to see her Cupita at the
Oracle’s side.

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. 

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.

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. 

Through Shaded Eyes

World of Ruin Drabble

Summary: Takes place a few months after Distorted Reflections. Loqi is trying to reach a decision on whether to stay in Lestallum, or go back to running from demons. (Aranea is worried for Loqi’s mental health, and Cor is worried the idiot might actually leave)

Loqi focused, depression implied. 

AO3 Link

~~~~

He stared into the darkness, toward Ravatogh, fixating on
the distant point. There was a small settlement that way, or had been. If he
made his way there…

“Loqi?” A hand shook his shoulder.

He turned to face the hunter, who had a strange look in his
eyes. “We’re almost finished loading the truck, and are about to head back.”

He turned his head and looked at the rest of the group,
settling around the boxes and taking their seats for the ride back.

“Right. Coming.”

~

Later on back in Lestallum, Loqi stood leaning against the
side of a building, arms crossed and brow furrowed. Today he’d gone and helped
in the kitchens again. Gifted the young Amicitia with a bolt of cloth he’d
happened across, again. Then ended up going out on an expedition for supplies
with a small group of hunters again. Then returned. Again.

It scared him to think about just how far he’d settled into
a routine here in Lestallum.

This was meant to be temporary. A place to heal until he
could hit the road again. Curse Cor and his stubbornness, but he’d been right.
Loqi knew he’d never have lasted out in the world with his ankle as badly
sprained as it was. Looking back, it also scared him how final he thought that
last rest in the diner was going to be. And just how okay he’d been with the
idea of perishing. Finally, he could rest.

No matter.

He pushed himself off the wall and set out toward the small
apartments that the hunters shared. Perhaps it was time to move on. It’d been
on his mind this past month more than he’d like to admit. As the days passed,
he could feel the tensions around him growing. The only other person who could
be considered a Nif was Aranea, and she was more than welcome due to her past.
She’d abandoned her post in the end, long before the long night set in. She’d
saved people and still went out looking for survivors every chance she got.

But Loqi? He’d been loyal to the last moment, and could do
no more than the next hunter ever since he lost his mech in Tenebrae.

Speaking of the hunters, though they appreciated his skills
when outside of Lestallum, they were starting to look at him differently. Their
faces held something in them he couldn’t decipher, and he didn’t like not
knowing. Were they planning against him? Plotting an accident? It’d be easy to
explain that the former Nif general had gotten himself killed on a mission with
them. It happened all the time. And it would be no more than he deserved after
what his homeland had done.

Better to leave before they could extract revenge, right?
That’s what he told himself anyways.

“Loqi, you keep that frown on your face for too long you’ll
end up with wrinkles.”

He hadn’t been aware he was frowning, but the frown deepened
at the voice.

“Maybe then I’ll look my age.” He replied, stopping and
turning to face Aranea. Think of the devil and all that he guessed. “Something
you need?”

She caught up with him and he started walking with her. “Nothing
much. Just checking in on you I guess.”

She said it nonchalantly, slowly shrugging her shoulders and
keeping her eyes forward. The words rang through his memories, making him
recall back to when he’d first been promoted to general at 17. She’d checked on
him then too. Frequently. She didn’t have a need to before then, considering
she’d trained him. But when he’d first started on his own, she looked in on
him. As much as she liked to pretend that she didn’t care for people, she cared
very deeply. Especially for those younger than her.

He recalled reading her file one night when he’d still been
new, and saw that it mentioned a younger brother very briefly, and only in the
past tense. He knew better than to bring it up. (And he would never allow him
to voice how he found it touching that she did care that he’d been a kid when
first facing war.)

“We’re far from the empire Aranea. You’ve no need to keep up
with me.” He said, just as nonchalantly as she did. He knew it was mean of him,
to dismiss her way of showing she cared so easily. “Training was a long time
ago.”

What he didn’t know was that it would cause her to smack him
in the back of the head. It was hard enough to smart, but not enough to cause
actual harm.

“Ow.” He glanced at her with a glare, which she met with a
glare of her own.

“And you know that I don’t just check on people because we shared
a birthplace.” She stopped in her tracks and he did the same. “I’ve seen the
looks you’ve been getting on your face. It was the same that day you lost your
mech.”

He rolled his eyes, knowing what she was referring to, and
sighed, “Fine. I’ve been doing well.”

“Don’t give me that.” She huffed and then started walking,
faster than he could keep up thanks to her height, “I’m not the only one who’s
noticed you know. Now, normally, I wouldn’t even be saying anything, because I
don’t really give a crap what you do…”

Liar. He knew she cared, but he didn’t see why. There were
more important things after all.

“But even the immortal is worried.”

He couldn’t keep the surprised look from his face. “What
would Cor be worried about me for?”

“We all see it Fluff.” She leveled a stare at him, and
waited for him to catch up with her stride.

“Don’t call me that.” He muttered, a small flush finding its
way onto his cheeks. She hadn’t called him that since he’d been a recruit
training under her.

“You’ve been thinking of leaving, haven’t you.” She said it
as a statement, not a question.

He gave her a small shrug and continued walked toward the
apartments without her. “If I am, it wouldn’t be a large loss. Might even boost
moral.”

“Hey.” She easily caught up with him and grabbed his arm,
stopping him from walking further. He didn’t meet her eye. “Don’t say that.”

He remained silent, but allowed a sigh. She in turn gave a frustrated
growl and grabbed both his arms, turning him to face her. And he allowed it.

“I looked for you, you know.” She began. “After Tenebrae.”

He glanced up at her, trying to gage if she was telling the
truth.

Tenebrae was a mess. The empire had been falling apart, and
he’d been on his way back to Gralea to see if he could save his home, but was,
by chance, forced to stop there. Daemons attacking civilians, the manor still
burning out of spite he assumed, and Aranea in the middle of it, trying to get
as many people as she could on her airship. It’d been a battle with the light
dying as it was. He couldn’t leave her there, and he was proud to say he helped
turn the tide. But then…

His mech blew up. Again. For the last time, because there
had been no repairing it. The thought was an embarrassing one, and he couldn’t
help the cringe. Aranea took that for guilt, because of what had happened
after.

“When I’d saw you there, your eyes. They were as distant and
as tired as they are now. You’d told me you were heading to Gralea, even though
we both knew at the time that the capital was lost, and going there was a death
sentence.” She lightly shook him then, trying to pull him out of his thoughts. “But
then you fought and vanished, and all I could find was your armor. …I sincerely
thought you’d let yourself die, or became a demon.”

Her voice was hard by the end, and barely contained the
emotion she was trying to suppress. As if she was trying to hide that he’d made
her morn him.

“Aranea…” He looked up at her.

Not even the astrals wanted me, was a thought that he kept
to himself, and he quickly shook his head, trying to rid himself of the notion.
If he let himself think like that, he’d definitely end up in a cycle of
thoughts that were better left not being thought.

“You’re not leaving. And if you do, I’ll come and hunt you
down and bring you back, because what you’re doing isn’t…It’s not right.” She
released him then. “That’s all I wanted to say. Because today you…Well to be
honest you look horrible Fluff.”

“Yeah yeah, thanks.” He muttered, and crossed his arms. “So
what should I do. Because I’m clearly not welcome here. You’ve seen their
stares Aranea.”

“You idiot, they’re staring because they’re worried.” She
pressed her fingers to her eyes as if she was fighting off a headache. “Just…remember
what I said. If you do leave, I’m hunting you down, and I’m sure Leonis will
come along too considering he brought you back here the first time around.”

With that she turned and left, as if leaving him with his
thoughts was a good idea. However, he didn’t blame her. She never liked talking
about emotional things, and hearing that she looked for him, out of all the
people in the empire, was an emotional topic. With any luck, she’d go have a
few too many drinks with Biggs and Wedge, and he’d have a head start on getting
lost in the darkness again.

If he left.

A huff of frustration left him and he went inside to his
shared apartment. Now, he was doubting that he wanted to leave, which was new.
It was forcing him to confront the fact that when he felt like this, tired,
drained, exhausted, he’d left where he was for somewhere dangerous. As a 14-year-old,
he’d formally joined the army. As a 16-year-old, he’d trained under Aranea on
some of the most dangerous ops. He’d put his own name up for general at 17, and
got it because he was driven and willing to take smart risks. In his 20s, he
led his own ops at the front lines, not to mention the countless times he’d
thrown himself practically on Leonis’s sword. Tenebrae. Now.

“Damn it.” He muttered under his breath, and practically flung
himself on his bed. Once there, he took his pillow and placed it over his face
to block out the world. When he felt like this, he left. It was just what he
did. (Never mind that he usually left for dangerous situations. That was
something he wasn’t ready to think about, due to what is might suggest about
himself.)

But did he actually want to leave?

It was just his luck that a familiar voice suddenly cut
through his thoughts.

“If you’re trying to smother yourself, I’m sure there are
more efficient methods than a pillow.”

A sigh that bordered on a groan left him and he took his
pillow off his head to look up at the man looming by his bedside. “Marshal.”

“Aranea seemed…disturbed. I believe her words were, you go
talk some sense into that…” He paused and then considered his words before
continuing. “…Well, I don’t really care to repeat what she called you.” He
looked down at Loqi with a raised eyebrow, “But I do know that if she
personally asked me to talk to you, it must be serious.”

With that, Cor sat on the bed opposite of Loqi’s own bed,
and remained silent, as if waiting for Loqi to speak. To which, Loqi only
offered his trademark glare toward him, and stared.

After a few moments of silence, Cor sighed, “So…I take it
the rumors of you wanting to leave are true?”

“Rumors?” Loqi sat up, and he could feel a headache started
to keep up on him, “What rumors.”

“People are wondering about you. They say after every
mission you stare into the distance. It takes them longer and longer to get
your attention. They’re worried that one day, you’re just going to wander off.”
He paused to observe Loqi’s face, which was staring at him with wide eyed
horror, “You’re not aware you’re doing it.”

No, he wasn’t. But now Aranea’s words about the hunter’s
being worried made sense. Was that what was behind the looks they’d been giving
him? Worry? He turned away and stared at his feet. He never used to be so
transparent, he’d like to think.

“Loqi, I’m aware that you came here reluctantly, but that
doesn’t change that you did come. And when you did, no one questioned it. They
welcomed you.” Cor continued staring at him, and it made him feel smaller than
he’d like. Cor’s eyes seemed like they could read him and everything about him
with a glance, and to have him stare at you for any amount of time was
disconcerting. “You are welcome here Loqi, regardless of whether you think so
or not.”

He got up then, and placed his hand on Loqi’s shoulder,
causing him to look up at him. “If you do decide to leave, come talk to me
first. That’s all I ask.”

He squeezed once, and then left Loqi alone again. Once of
Loqi’s hands reached up and rested on his shoulder where Cor had touched him.
Honestly, he was being touched a lot today, at he didn’t know what to make of
that. He sighed again, and laid back down, curling up to face the wall. At
least Leonis had kept it short.

He closed his eyes, deciding that he wouldn’t leave. For
now, he’d stay. Just to see if what Aranea and Cor said was true.

A Dark Game chpt 2: Waiting

Link to AO3: A Dark Game 

Chapter two is finally up! 😀 Sorry for the wait. OMG.

Chpt 2 Summary: 

It’s been months since Noctis had been by Prompto. Things between Prompto and his father are more strained than ever with his controlled return to Niflheim’s high society. Noctis has been working in the shadows, and a high stakes plan is put into motion. Prompto’s wait is over.

Months passed Prompto by, and what passed for spring around his home settled in. The weather was fair enough for a light sweater if one wished it, thought the chill never really went away. But his people were used to the cold. In fact, they considered this a heat wave almost. People were milling around the streets in outer Gralea, enjoying the sun. If he strained his eyes, he could see some of them in the distance, and tried to get glimpses of their lives. Whatever they were doing was much more interesting than the royal conduct textbook he was currently reading. Or supposed to be. It was very dry.

Tonight, he was supposed to dine with his father, for the first time since he had been reprimanded and forced into this mockery of life. So, as partly a reminder and partly a slap in the face, his tutors had been instructed to have him go over the material before tonight’s party. To ensure that he wouldn’t act as he did during that fateful dinner years ago. For tonight there were diplomats from overseas coming, generals, high ranking lords and ladies of the Niflm court, and since Prompto was no longer a teen, the emperor had decided he could no longer hide him from diplomatic niceties.

A deep sigh left him, and he leaned back in his chair. He was nervous, that much was obvious. But lately an unsettled feeling had been plaguing him. He felt like right around the corner something horrible was about to happen, and he had no way to stop it. But he was consoled by the thought of Noctis coming back for him. He knew it was rather stupid of him to hope that the would-be assassin would return, but still. He’d take whatever small comfort he could get.

A knock interrupted his thoughts and a voice called through the door, “Your highness?”

“Yes?” He called back, quickly turning a few pages to make it seem like he had been reading.

The door swung open and one of the newer retainers, Virtus, a young man around Prompto’s age, training to be his future guard and advisor supposedly, walked in. He still had an air of being unsure about him, but hid it better than most. His only tell was that he’d bite his lips when he was doubting himself. Like now.

“It’s time to get ready?” He said, but it ended up sounding more like a question.

As much as Prompto wanted to let slip that he was like him, unsure in most things like everyone their age, he couldn’t. Such a slip up could lead to his father thinking he wasn’t broken. So, he kept his face a mask of indifference, and nodded.

“Alright.”

He rose from his chair with the grace years of being watched as the prince had taught him. Virtus openly stared at him, like his mind was boggled by how unflappable he seemed. But his caretaker, the man his father had assigned to watch him all these years, was used to it. He was the one who taught him after all.

“Virtus, don’t just stand there, come here.” He snapped, and the young man rushed to the caretaker’s side.

“Yes sir!”

Prompto glided over to his closet and held his arms out to his sides as the man began pulling off his over clothes. He found the extra layers frivolous, but to the rest of the court they were a symbol of his status. Being royal, every movement was supposed to carry weight. The clothes were symbolic of that. A slow sigh left him as they stripped him down to his last layer, a grey undershirt and leggings, and then began to dress him in evening wear.

The first layer ended up being almost formfitting, a simple black pair of pants and a white tank top. He enjoyed being able to freely move while he could, because after that they layered on a ridiculous amount of fabric. Another white shirt, the sleeves almost sheer loose on the arm and fitted below his elbow. A pair of black gloves that only held onto his hand by a single loop around his index finger. Metal bracers that went from his wrist to elbow. A vest with gold and red embellishments that closed at the side. A tan jacket that went down to his thighs and belted closed at the waist and a hood. The hood they put over his head, to hold it until they put the rest of the layers on. Because of course there were more.

He was already overheating.

With his face somewhat obscured while they finished, his eyebrows pinched together, a small visible sign of annoyance that he allowed himself. Any other time, he’d never have dared. But honestly, he felt that this was ridiculous. Recalling his days among the people, also a dangerous thing to do, he remembered the cold, and how even in all his layers he felt it seep into his bone. Meanwhile, his people had to make do with less, or even worse, nothing.

He was suddenly pulled back out of his thoughts when Virtus peeked under his hood. His eyebrows raised, and eyes widened before he could stop them. But just as quickly, he schooled his face back into a neutral expression. He kept his breathing steady, and tried not to think about how that slip of an expression might get him in trouble. And considering that this young man was training to be his retainer, he would most likely report it.

But to Prompto’s pleasant surprise, he didn’t.

Instead he asked, “Your highness, please raise your arms out to your sides?”

“Don’t ask him you fool boy, simply tell him.” The caretaker snapped, annoyance in his voice.

“Oh! Right. Sorry.” The boy winced as if the words had struck him.

They continued and finally took off his hood. By the time they’d finished, he felt heavy and in the mirror, was twice as bulky as before. The black robe he wore under the final white and red coat was reminiscent of his father’s own robes, aside from another belt fitting it closer to his body. The white coat had the royal coat of arms on his back and red strips of leather also going down his front, again, like his fathers.

There was a pang in his chest at how similar they’d look tonight, and all the while they’d be paying the part of a happy family. Sometimes, Prompto deeply wished the act to be the truth. But somewhere along the years, his father had changed. He was, believe it or not, once loved by his people not feared. And back then he’d also treated Prompto as actual family. Unlike now.

“We’re finished your highness.” He caretaker said in his same droll tone once they’d stopped tugging things into their precise places, and Prompto had to suppress the urge to roll his eyes.

‘Would it kill you to show some emotion,’ he thought bitterly.

Taking in the final effect of his outfit, he took notice of one thing specifically. Unlike his father’s, his clothes only came to his mid-thigh, leaving his legs mostly unhindered. Any other dinner would require him to be in full robes. A brief frown on his face, he knew would be permitted a question because of this change.

“Has father ordered that I wear our summer clothes?” He turned and looked at the caretaker, his face carefully neutral.

“Apologies for this your highness.” His caretaker started, and Prompto very nearly jumped in surprise. He NEVER apologized. Ever.

“While showing Virtus how to press your clothes and prepared them for use, a breeze knocked over a vase in the laundry room and ruined the formal set.” He briefly bowed his head, and Prompto’s eyes flickered over to Virtus and then back.
He wondered just how much trouble they’d both gotten into over that, if the caretaker was apologizing to him.

“I see…Was father informed?” He asked, pushing his luck. But he felt that this would be an understandable question, considering he was only supposed to do what was allowed.

“Yes, your highness.” Virtus answered, his face unsure. “At once when it occurred.”

Prompto nodded and said no more, allowing the caretaker and himself to slip back into their usual routine. He went to open the door and held it for Prompto go through first. He made his way to the dining hall, preparing himself mentally.

Behind him, the caretaker was talking to Virtus.

“We always follow behind, Virtus. Though we are escorting his highness, we are never to walk in front of him.” He said, his voice taking on the tone of a teacher. Something Prompto hadn’t heard in a while.

He tuned them out as he caught a glimpse of the entrance up ahead, his father waiting there for him. Very subtly, he picked up his pace.

“Ah, Prompto.” His father said once he noticed them. He looked at him from head to toe, judging his appearance. “Punctual. That’s a change.”

He bowed to his father and said lamely, “Being on time is important.”

He knew his father wasn’t expecting him to give a lively answer. Not since before his seclusion had he been upbeat. Something, judging by the approval in his father’s eyes, he’d wanted. Without another word, and without a glance, his father waved his hand at Virtus and the caretaker.

“You’re dismissed.”

“Your Majesty. Your highness.” The caretaker said in farewell, bowing alongside Virtus, and then quickly leaving.

“Shoulders back Prompto.” His father said as he took his place beside him, and that was that.

He held his head up high, and kept his face indifferent, cold almost, as he strode into the ballroom one step behind his father.

“His Radiance, Imperial Majesty Iedolas Aldercapt, and Imperial Highness Prince Prompto Aldercapt.” Someone announced.

Everyone turned to them and bowed, acknowledging them, and then returned to their conversations. Prompto grounded himself, eyes looking around the room to mentally list who was present and who was not. A few of the lords and ladies he didn’t know, and he figured they must have only recently been elevated to their position. The lower houses always frequently changed under his father’s rule.

It was the higher houses he had to be wary of. They were charming and laughed easily, but every single one of them was cold and cunning behind their beaming smiles. More than one of them had tried to arrange for either an accident for him, or to set up a marriage to their children for him. Some had even done both in the same week he’d heard. But that wasn’t spoken of in polite company. Everyone knew who had made a move and when. The game was not to let it show on your face.

Sometimes he wished masks would come back in fashion. The game would be so much easier then.

“Ah, Prince Prompto, it’s good to see you’ve joined us this evening.”

Prompto mentally stood a little straighter at the voice from behind him. He turned slowly and smiled what could be considered an easy-going smile at Verstael Besithia.

“Good evening Minister, enjoying yourself so far?” He asked, his body language at ease.

Truthfully his stomach was tying itself in knots and he felt rather faint. The Minister was something of an enigma to Prompto. He was feared for his experiments and the evil acts he’d committed in them, but toward Prompto was nothing but kind. It was widely known that he had a soft spot for the prince. But no one knew why. Not even the prince himself.

“That I am. Tell me, Prince, how goes your studies? Have you reached the end of the math curriculum again?”

At this change in topic Prompto brightened a little. He had. He was something of a mathematical and scientific genius. However, his father didn’t value such things. But at least with the Minister, he could discuss it. It had the plus side of no one being able to follow their talk of theories and equations, so no one would approach. And, so long as it stuck to theories and such, he’d found the conversation enjoyable. However, he couldn’t keep it up all night.

“Ah, well. I shouldn’t keep you any longer your highness.” Besithia bowed briefly and then smiled a smile that sent Prompto’s skin crawling, with a changed look in his eyes that was the cold and cunning visage he was used to, “I need to update your father on the recent progress on my current experiment, but look forward to seeing you more now that you’re attending these events again.”

“Right.” Prompto gave him a small nod, and reflected a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, “Same to you, Minister. Enjoy your evening.”

Once Besithia turned away, Prompto released a breath he’d been holding. He’d been at ease when discussing math. But seeing the changing in demeanor in the minister always unsettled him. He could see why people feared him, and thanked the astrals that he, for some inexplicable reason, liked him.

But he didn’t have long to rest, considering an arm was suddenly slung around his neck and pulling him backwards onto one of the ballroom balconies, and out of sight of the court and his father.

He squawked in surprise, which lead to bright laughter from behind him.

“And here I was beginning to think you’d never show up at one of these again!”

His eyes widened and he fought his way free of the arm, which had only been holding him half-heartedly, and turned.

“Loqi!” Prompto smiled brightly, and practically crushed his one-time best friend in a hug. Or did his best to anyways. It was hard to with the armor he was wearing.

He hadn’t seen his friend since he was 16, and had known him since they were 7 and 10 respectively. He’d used to risk everything to come and see Prompto when he’d first been locked away into seclusion for that first year. And when he’d been caught, because one couldn’t avoid the emperor’s eyes forever, he’d sworn that he’d still be friends with him. Thankfully, the fact that he was a Tummelt protected him. Indeed, the emperor saw it as auspicious that the youngest Tummelt took to the prince so easily, considering that house Tummelt was considered the most loyal house above all others. Loqi’s own father thought so as well, but couldn’t look past that Loqi disobeyed. And Prompto hadn’t seen, or heard of what had become of him since.

“Oh hey, easy! You’ll hurt yourself.” Loqi snickered as he patted Prompto on the back.

Prompto pulled away and tried to hide his watery eyes, rubbing at them furiously to dry them out, “It’s been so long. I thought by now you’d have been sent to basic training by your father!”

“I was.” Loqi said with a smirk. “I finished early.”

It was only then that Prompto fully looked at his armor. It made Loqi look a lot larger than Prompto was, which was saying something considering they were both on the beanpole side of the scale. Plus, it made him taller. The metal was unyielding, and if he had to guess, he’d say it was meant for combat. But what drew his eye was the royal red favor hanging from his right shoulder, with Prompto’s family crest in gold adorning it. Beneath that was the Tummelt family crest. It both marked where his loyalty was placed, to the Aldercapt family, while simultaneously declaring his house name.

“You,” His eyes snapped up to Loqi’s face, which still bore the smirk and now also held pride in his eyes, “You’re a general!”

“Yup!” Loqi reached a hand up and traced the edge of the fabric. “As it turns out, I have a natural aptitude for the mechs, and great strength in strategic planning. So much so, that I rose through the ranks quickly.”

Prompto wanted to jump up and down for his friend, because this was a monumental accomplishment. Becoming a general at age 23 was unheard of! But he couldn’t. Though they were out of sight of the ball room, it wasn’t very far. If he was too loud, they would be heard. But then Prompto realized something.

“That means you’ll have a seat on my father’s council.” He stepped closer to Loqi and grasped his hands in his, just holding them like when they had been children. “Loqi, that’s a life appointment.”

“I know.” Loqi’s smirk softened into a true smile, something that only Prompto had ever been able to bring out. “So, one day I’ll be on your council Prom.”

Loqi’s voice dropped to a whisper, and he continued, “The changes you wished for. We can still bring them about.”

Prompto’s chest tightened with warmth, and as dangerous as speaking those words was so near the court, a wistful smile crossed his face upon replying. “There’s nothing I’d like more than that.”

They both stood in silence then, simply enjoying the others company. It’d been so long since either had seen a friendly face. Both were recalling when they’d been younger, and though both were only just reaching their 20s, each felt older than the last time they’d seen each other. And if he was being honest with himself, the fact the Loqi remembered their conversations from years ago, and the changes he’d wanted once he was emperor, touched him.

But then Prompto sighed and released his hands.

“As much as I want to remain here and talk with you, we both have to been seen at this party.”

Loqi rolled his eyes, an annoyed huff leaving him. “Don’t I know it.”

“I’ll…be seeing you Loqi.” Prompto offered a small and unsure smile to him, to which Loqi huffed once more and pulled him into a hug.

“Count on it. We’re friends, right? Not even the emperor can keep me away forever.”

Prompto laughed into his shoulder, despite how Loqi’s armor dug into him, and squeezed just as tightly as before. He’d like to think, that one day, he’d have more than just stolen moments with his friend.

Once he let go, Loqi made sure he wasn’t too ruffled, and let him return to the ballroom, alone. Though, he was never very far away for the rest of the night, and every once in a while, he would catch Loqi’s face twisting up with barely concealed panic that he’d somehow offended some lady or lord. It’d been a while since he’d been in this kind of situation after all.

Prompto, thanks to his tutoring and his father’s expectations, made no such mistakes.

The rest of the night passed in relative peace. Sure, Prompto has a few people try to pry into just where he’s been, and a few people, the newer lower houses, make snide comments about his wardrobe. He fully expected his father would take away their lord or ladyship as soon as the night was over for that. But it was nothing out of the ordinary.

Soon enough, hours into the party, he found himself being dismissed by his father back to his room. Some excuse made for him about travelling to a different keep in the early morning, to oversee some important thing or the other. He hadn’t paid attention because he knew it was a lie. He’d be in his rooms, as always. Once he was in the hallway, alone, he allowed himself a moment to drop the smile he’d had on for most of the evening, and sighed heavily. He rolled his shoulders and reached up to massage his neck, trying to work the stiffness out of it. Holding his head as high as his father wanted was a surprising amount of work, when it had to be sustained for so long.

But then the moment ended when the young man, Virtus, could be heard around the corner. He straightened and waited for him.

“Ah, your highness.” Virtus said rather brightly for this time of night. He bowed and then gestured down the hall. “I’m to escort you to your room for the night…If that’s okay?”

Prompto had to stifle a laugh, but couldn’t stop himself from smiling at the young man’s slip. “You’re not supposed to ask, remember?”

He couldn’t resist teasing him. Perhaps seeing his old friend tonight had given him hope that he could make another friend out of this young man.

Virtus’s eyes widened and he bowed, “Uh…oops? Sorry your highness!”

“It’s fine.” Prompto responded easily, and began to walk, “I just don’t want you to get into trouble again.”

“Ah…” Virtus fell into step behind Prompto, walking behind him as he was taught this time. “It’ll happen plenty, don’t worry your highness. I mean…Ugh…that is to say that I am trying, I don’t mean to get into trouble, but I tend to. Er…That’s probably not the most reassuring thing to hear from your future attendant. But…”

Virtus continued babbling, and it set Prompto at ease. Clearly, he was a lowborn citizen. That didn’t make him lesser in Prompto’s eyes, but it meant he wasn’t used to all the pomp and circumstance.
Eventually though, they came to the hall before the maze of the royal quarters, and both paused where they were. All the lights, every single one, was out. A small gasp left Virtus, and quickly, before Prompto could react he was grabbing his hand and running into one of the halls.

“V-virtus?” Prompto called, keeping up with him easily thanks to his return to training, and the fact that his legs weren’t tangling in his robes. Thank the gods for his summer clothes.

“I’m sorry your highness, I really thought I had more time!” He whispered back, hurrying down another hall with Prompto in hand.

“What’s going on?”

Virtus came to a stop in one of the smaller halls, and quickly pulled the prince into an alcove with him.

“I’m sorry. Prince, I’m Lucian.” Virtus looked at Prompto with large eyes, “I was sent by Prince Noctis to watch over you, and got wind of an assassination attempt, but haven’t found out the night yet.”

“Wait…what?” Prompto shook his head, trying to wrap his mind around the fact that Noctis had been watching over him through his attendant.

Virtus, lowered his voice even further. “It’s tonight. Damn the six, it’s tonight. Forgive me highness.”

He suddenly grabbed Prompto and hid one of his hands inside his robes, summoning something small and then dismissing it in a bright blue light.

“I hope that was enough to hide the light,” He muttered, while releasing Prompto. At least all the layers are good for something Prompto thought.

“What…I mean…What?” He was all sorts of confused. Because assassins were watching over him, but there was an assassination attempt? But that would mean… His face grew somber. “My father.”

Virtus made a pained expression, but then looked back outside the alcove. “Yes, your highness.”

He’d thought it odd that he’d have Loqi serve under him rather than wait for Prompto to ascend to the throne to name him as one of his generals. Looking back, he could make the connection. He named Loqi to the council because Prompto was never going to ascend. But what had he done wrong? He looked back and tried to figure out why his father would want him gone after all the work he’d put into breaking him. The isolation. The strict schedules. Hell, the scripts of what he was and was not allowed to say.

Where had he slipped up?

“Prince!” Virtus suddenly grabbed him and yanked him forward, and when he’d been a dagger was sticking out of the wall.

The two young men glanced at each other and took off down the hall running. Not for the first time in his life did Prompto hate that the Royal halls were meant to be maze like. It was supposed to be easy to escape from a killer, but in this case, only seemed to make it harder.

His attention then turned to his attendant. Prompto hated that this made sense too. Virtus was young, inexperienced. Lowborn. Expendable to his father. Him being the one escorting him rather than his usual, trained in combat, attendant, would be seen as a tragic coincidence. Especially since the assassin would probably make sure to kill them both. Easy to blame the prince’s death on the lucians since there would be no witnesses. Security was low everywhere but the ballroom. There would be no help to reach.

Someone running around the corner in front of them pulled him out of his thoughts. The person rushed toward Prompto, knife drawn and ready, and Prompto couldn’t stop in time. Instead of managing to stab him, Virtus tackled the man before he could reach him. They were soon fighting for the knife, and it was nothing like the fight when he and Noctis met. This man meant to kill them.

“Run Prompto!” Virtus shouted.

And he could do nothing else but comply.

Don’t know if this has been done before, but how about a cute headcanon where the chocobros find out their s/o is ticklish or the other way around. I think it’s so cute!

Noctis:

He is STARTLINGLY ticklish.

It’s an accident. Noctis and his S/O would be training together, and just by chance, to reach around him, they lay their hand on his side. 

It catches him so off guard that he yelps and actually warps away, sword sinking into the side of a pillar far above his S/O, holding his side and glowering like a cat that just got his tail stepped on.

The S/O would be in stitches, and it would take a while for them to stop laughing, and even longer to convince Noctis to come down. 

By the time he does, he’s fully settled into suspicion, and only lets the S/O close after multiple promises not to do it again. (And quit laughing!)

Prompto:

He’d be in a sad mood, which isn’t unheard of for the blond behind closed doors. The S/O would be trying to cheer him up, and start dancing their fingers over his ribs as a last resort, not even knowing if it would work.

At first he’d be able to hold off his chuckles, but then it quickly escalates to full blown laughter and him grabbing at their hands to get them to stop. 

“Stop making me laugh I’m trying to be sad!” he says desperately through his laughs, which only causes him to laugh even harder at the ridiculousness of that sentence. 

They both eventually settle down, and his sad thoughts would be chased away for the moment. In fact, tickling becomes a sign of affection between the two. 

Ignis:

A small gasp leaves him in surprise. He wasn’t expecting his S/O to lean over and whisper to him during a meeting. But them being shorter means that the air from their whisper was more directed toward his neck. 

Not many people know that he’s EXTREMELY ticklish on his neck. 

And to his horror, his S/O’s eyes light up with mischief upon realizing why he’d gasped. From then on through out the day, they’d delight on sneaking up on him and either blowing on his neck, or when alone in particular, gently poking and tracing their fingers on his neck which usually gets a few startled laughs out of him.

Ignis, as it turns out, if very fun to tickle when you’re in a relationship with him. Kissing his neck and blowing raspberries on the sensitive skin there is always a laugh, especially because when he gets tickled, he gets weak and can’t really fight back.

Gladiolus:

Oddly enough, Gladio is ticklish on his back. Also on his feet and under his arms, but his back is the most surprising. 

It’d be an accident when his S/O discovers it. It’s been a long day and they seem him walking down a hall in the citadel alone, about to head home. So they rush for a hug and upon puling away, their hands tail over his back with a feather light touch.

A choked laugh leaves him, and his face twists up like he’s about to sneeze from the effort of trying not to laugh. 

With a raised eyebrow, they’d dance their fingers over his back, and lightly scrape their nails over it as well, to test their theory. 

Full bellied laughs would leave him, and he’d try to get away, but since their arms would still be hugging him, it doesn’t take much to latch on and hold him hostage. 

This basically becomes blackmail material, and people are wondering what the S/O means when they say they’ll use their secret weapon against him when he’s being difficult.