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Consumed

Summary: He loved Ebony and she loved energy drinks, Ignis and Aranea couldn't be any more different and yet, when the world is threatened by darkness and ten years are upon them for the return of the King of Light, their friendship grew in the most unexpected ways.

Notes: I just... really wanted to write a self-indulgent fic about platonic Ignis and Aranea, Aranea having a chip on her shoulder and troubled and traumatic past, but those two connecting somehow. Both have a form of addiction, as it took Aranea years to get past it, Ignis will have a long road ahead of him to recover from his.

This is posted on my Ao3 because I know how hard it is to read fics on my blog lol

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Ignis' head pounded repeatedly. The source of the pain was unknown, but it tenaciously lingered, easily triggered by even the most insignificant of sounds or the slight unintentional movement. There was no other pain like it and he had known greater suffering. A splash of colors exploded ominously in his head. He had to lie down and not even his mind registered the soft mattress under him the moment he collapsed on the bed. "Specs?" "Noct?" Ignis shot upward, only to immediately lie back down, clutching his head. He groaned. Now, his muscles ached unbearably. Closing his eyes couldn’t expel the pain as it had in the past. "Hey, hey, don't get up on my account." The king’s laughter was forced, almost on the verge of mirrored agony. Quietly, so quiet that it forced Ignis to strain to listen, he asked, "You okay? You took off your glasses." Ignis turned his wrists over his eyes, a futile effort to hide the scars, fragments of an tumultuous ordeal. He wished to lay his eyes on Noctis, but not when he’s like this. "I'll be fine. Just a slight headache." 

"You've been getting those lately. The stress of whole recruiting and strategizing thing finally getting to you?" "I just need some rest. I won't let this stop me." The mattress squeaked as the king took a seat beside the advisor's form. "Put your head on my lap." The advisor obeyed as a moth drawn to a flame, content with staying like this for a while when his cheek touched Noctis’ thigh. "Do warn me if you have to get up." "I'm not going anywhere." Soft lips pressed lightly on Ignis' forehead. "Move your hand." Calloused fingers rubbed small circles in the advisor's temple. Ignis moaned. "Am I doing it right?" The king's voice was husky, breathy to avoid inflicting the older man with more pain. "Yes..." Ignis swallowed, tilting his head to meet with Noctis' hands. "This is perfect." “It won’t be like this for long.” “It won’t... be?” Ignis echoed, brow furrowing. “What’s that?” “This,” Noctis answered, vaguely as he delicately traced the faint scarring of Ignis’ face. “What you’re doing now. There’s no question that everyone’s behind you a hundred percent and I’m gonna be the one to meet you half way for what you’ve done. Wait for me a little longer.” “Noct...” The name tasted bittersweet the moment it left Ignis’ lips upon waking up. Noctis was gone and he was never present to begin with no matter how much Ignis wished it wasn’t the case. The king’s fingers had ghosted over the advisor’s face and kindled the flame in his heart as if they were physically together just a moment ago. The visage of his beloved followed him in dreams as they had in his wake, vivid and unrelenting. But Ignis knew the truth. Noctis had departed for where he couldn’t bring those he loved with him, no matter how deeply they cared for him in return. Even for one such as Ignis, who had been branded with the Old King’s’ favor. It was a path that Ignis couldn’t follow. And it was why he had to let him go. The King of Light left no instructions nor parting words, but that didn’t mean that Ignis was left without purpose. Far from it, he prepared for the imminent threat lurking in the shadows because of the knowledge imparted to him. Ignis held a love, pure and unyielding, for Noctis, somehow it never dulled in absence and through every action and countermeasure resonated of the young king’s high influence. If Noctis was unwilling to follow the prophecy, then Ignis would’ve fled with him, hide him from— But that wouldn’t have been Noctis if it was. He never one for inaction or to remain silent for long even crushed by duty, one of the earliest lessons taught by the late king. Since the fall of Insomnia, the events thrown in their paths including Ardyn’s trap in the Zegnautus Keep, led him to demand the Crystal’s power of his own volition. By donning on the Ring of the Lucii, Ignis realized that he was the final crucible in this destiny. Gladiolus and Prompto followed Ignis’ lead without question. He couldn’t explain why they must prepare for the war, not fully. To call them dreams would diminish their significance, to call them visions would delving in the supernatural when no blood of the Oracle coursed through his veins, to call alternate realities implied that there was a degree of control in steering toward feasible probabilities than the worst outcomes but they were memories. His memories, good and bad, and they existed for a reason. Fragments of multiple branches that while Ignis of this timeline hadn’t endured, but tried and failed. While his own death and Ravus’ were averted, Noctis’ departure was inevitable. Noctis was still the chosen vessel to restore balance to Eos. The knowledge of these visions allowed Ignis to defy the stars themselves without hesitation so that this time Noctis‘ light won’t go extinguished. How this would end would be up to them to decide. Ignis still had his eyes, healed due to the king’s quick thinking. Noctis was to return. “But when he does, what then?” Ignis found himself asking this, interrupting his own thoughts. The prophecy still would have to end with Noctis. The memories showed only so much and led to more questions, carrying answers that he must link himself. This route didn’t reveal the king’s death. The truth could only be revealed after waiting. Ignis had done five months of it so far. - “It wouldn’t kill you to take a break, you know,” Aranea scolded with a hint of disappointment and impatience in her voice. Ignis smiled, nostalgic by the familiarity. In another history, Aranea had told Ignis to “stop navel-gazing” when she found him fishing in Galdin Quay. She wasn’t a fan of the pastime. “Isn’t that what I’m doing now, Aranea?” Ignis simpered, looking pleased with himself when his companion scowled. “And how well does Cidney take your advice?” He already knew the answer to that. “I don’t waste my breath on battles I can’t win,” Aranea said, holding the can Ignis placed in front of her with reserved scrutiny. Seeing that it wasn’t a can of Ebony invading her space, she popped the tab open. “So long she doesn’t skip meals and trouble doesn’t go out finding her, that’s one worry off my plate.” Aranea Highwind was one of the allies Ignis, Gladiolus, and Prompto recruited. Despite the initial meetings on the battlefield and a temporary partnership coerced by Ardyn Izunia, Aranea held no grudge for the encounters as they were tied to their allegiances. Aranea and her men became deserters of the Niflheim Empire long before the attack in Altissia, opting for a more honest line of work in search and rescue. Before the Empire, they were daemon hunters, freelancers of sorts since they didn’t belong to any of the headquarters. When Aranea joined the fight, Biggs and Wedge happily followed her lead wherever it took them. Though the two had embarked different roads in life, Aranea and Ignis’ paths met again for a reason. Aranea refused payment after hearing what had transpired and what events were to come after the death of the Oracle and the King of Light’s absence, claiming that the Gil received from the hunts were more than plenty to keep them afloat. They recognized danger and were formidable soldiers, Ignis acknowledged how invaluable they were. The ex-mercenary commodore found herself at home with their merry band of the king’s royal retainers, veterans, Hunters, displaced survivors, mechanics, technicians, chocobo caretakers, magazine editors, famed researchers, journalists-turned-jewel artisans, and aspiring chefs. Even now, when the two had nothing in common, Aranea wasn’t a fan of coffee and often scoffed whenever Ignis drank it in her presence, Ignis appreciated all that she’s done. At first, the mercenary had a habit of keeping her distance except to her subordinates, professional to a fault though that front banished when she began opening up to others, breaking her own “don’t get familiar” rule. And she wasn’t the first former imperial Ignis had allied and befriended. The tactician found one such relationship with Ravus. Though with the former prince and high commander, it was more of a quiet and dependable camaraderie whereas Aranea was direct about showing concern for those she deemed worthy of her time. Aranea never talked about her personal life. No homeland, family, friends, her occupation before the daemons and the Empire, or how she met her lieutenants to share willingly or when requested. Not even Biggs and Wedge disclosed information on their boss. Like her, they focused on the present. It took Ignis weeks to act on a suspicion and have Aranea admit that she was seeing Cidney romantically. (It was very disconcerting to hear that their relationship began when the head mechanic slapped the ex-commodore due to a misunderstanding. But the latter had laughed it off as she touched her cheek, implying that she received something better that day.) But Aranea was transparent about her values and who she is as a person, even about her favorite brand of energy drink. Still, if people were judged for who they were in the past, then perhaps Ignis and Aranea wouldn’t be standing here right now. “You sure you wanna go with this?” Aranea asked, wrapping protective cloth over her hands. “Walking and breathing with your eyes shut is one thing, but fighting is another thing entirely.” “You’ve taught me to do more than that,” Ignis took a strip of cloth and placed it over his eyes, welcoming the darkness. “If I fall, best be it in practice and not when our lives are on the line.” Ignis was blind once and Noctis restored his vision. That time. The other times he wasn’t as fortunate. Should his vision be disrupted once more, then what would he do then? He hadn’t attained the years of training as he had in past histories. Aranea possessed an impressive resume of natural skills and abilities separate from the use of Magitek and unsurprisingly, underwent specific training should she lose capability of her senses to complete a mission. That included sight. Ignis readied his stance and held up his hands. “I don’t want...” He just didn’t want to give Noctis or anyone else a a reason to think less of him. The history where Gladiolus and Noctis considered leaving him behind hurt. Aranea was silent as she conceded with a sigh. “Say no more, I get it. But don’t think that I do means I’m gonna hold back.” Training with Aranea was brutal even though she was holding back. Ignis found himself on his knees, betrayed by his hearing and intuition led him to second-guess where his opponent was, was humiliating. It taught him to discard what he already learned, have Aranea take the figurative walking cane he clutched to and sweep the rug from under him, and build up a fighting style without the use of his eyes. Strip all that he knew and realize how powerless he was. His soul and body refused to live with that vulnerability, it craved for power and domination, to defeat Aranea. Though it had been months since the Zegnautus Keep, the Ring of the Lucii marked him, its screams and whispers crawled from the back of his mind and into his heart. What power he thought he wielded, held him at the throat and it lingered still, threatening to unlock that primitive subconscious at any time, hungered to kill and derive pleasure from it. The Ring wasn’t in his possession, it was with its true owner and chosen vessel. The absence made Ignis jealous and made him forget. Ignis was on the ground, clutching at his wrist, the one that bore the ring and all he saw was red and purple clouding his vision as his screams clawed his throat raw. Aranea was at his side immediately. “Wh-what’s wrong? Are you okay? I barely—” She forcibly pinned Ignis’ wrists down as he thrashed against her. “Hey, snap out of it!” “F-fire...” Ignis rasped, his chest rose and fell as he struggled to breathe. “My flesh is—” The mercenary took the front of his shirt, only for the tactician’s hands to weakly fight her off. “This isn’t the time to be shy!” Aranea ripped his shirt, sending buttons flying and stupefied, she gawked at the scars etched on his skin. The inflamed, angry lashings had engulfed Ignis’ chest which extended to his arms and seemed to pulsate under the commodore’s cool fingers. Seeing the pity and helplessness written in her features, Ignis tried his hardest to explain that it’s not as bad as it looked. There was nothing she could do for him. Ignis didn’t see Aranea until three days later in the middle of the night. “Hey,” the mercenary knocked on the door frame before entering. Uncharacteristic of her as she normally just entered without announcing. “How’re you feeling?” “I’m doing better,” Ignis answered honestly. “Would you like a drink?” He turned his back to retrieve a chilled can of energy elixir. Perhaps he owed her an explanation for the other day. “Actually, I...” Aranea held out a shirt. “Here. Wedge knows his way around a needle. You won’t find a thread out of place.” “I... Thank you.” Aranea’s conflicted expression revealed there was another reason she was here. “I won’t ask what happened or why, it’s really none of my business.” She took out a small white bottle. “Went around asking the docs so I wouldn’t be doing this unless I’m absolutely sure about it.” Ignis took the bottle, unfamiliar with the name on the label. “What’s this?” “Helps with nerves and muscle spasms,” she explained, crossing her arms. “But it’s one helluva drug. Easy to abuse, harder to break it off if you get addicted. Just like any other drug.” “You speak from experience.” “Yeah. From a long time ago.” In other words, not an open invitation to unload that period of her life any time soon. “Aranea,” he began, intending to return the bottle. “I’m afraid this doesn’t—”

The Dragoon shook her head. “C’mon, it’s not like I’m forcing you to take it. But my conscience won’t let this go until I know you have it with you.” She waved a hand as if that’s all that needed to be said. “Take it if it gets too much to handle, okay?” Ignis swallowed. “Very well.” Aranea turned on her heel, exiting. “And lay off the coffee. You should be sleeping more.”

Ignis was stunned and shook his head, chuckling. “Says the woman who doesn’t know there’s a time and place for these matters.”

▲ five time my muse thought about kissing yours, and the one time they did. (Ghost AU)

send me a symbol for…

I.

“Ohmygosh, I could kiss you!”

Aranea realized a bit too late that she had voiced thesethoughts aloud – well, more like her relieved thoughts, and less like carnalthoughts. But at any rate, Ardyn had heard her and he chose to smile and to bowhis head lightly like a true gentleman, showing her the right way for the nextline transfer.

“Well, I suppose it is delightful to be rewarded for a gooddeed.”

“I’m so sorry. I was… Just too happy to see you. I clearlyunderestimated the subway,” Aranea replied with slightly reddened cheeks asthey walked through the crowd of busy-looking salarymen and high schoolstudents, all of them very aware of where they needed to go… Except for Aranea.She had lucked out, really – the closest station to her campus had no romajifor the station names and she ended up buying the wrong ticket and getting lostright after a first transfer in Shibuya.

Shibuya, of all places – well, at least it hadn’t been TokyoStation. Using her newly acquired mobile to phone Ardyn and to beg him torescue had seemed like a good option… Or rather, the only option.

“But if you’re feeling generous, then we could perhaps pick upsomething to eat on the way home.”

“My treat, Izunia-san~.”

II.

“It’s beautiful…” Aranea whispered, her hands open against thewindow and her face as close as she could to the glass without making it foggywith her warm breath. It was the first time it snowed in Tokyo since herarrival – and it looked straight out of a picture, especially considering thebeautiful view offered from Ardyn’s penthouse.

“You mentioned you had never seen snow before, yes?” Ardynqueried, coming to stand right beside her. Aranea was too entranced by the viewoutside to realize that her host didn’t have the same effect to the clear glassand appeared not to breathe, or that his reflection was also not showing up.

“Never. I’m from the southern part of the States, so it rarelysnows… Never got lucky with schools closing up for day and stuff like that,”she mentioned with a smile, but her eyes barely moved from the scenery outside.Ardyn hummed in agreement, hands folding behind his robe as he glanced at hisguest and smiled as well, although for other reasons.

“Have you acquainted yourself with the local lore, Aranea?This weather calls for the yuki-onna, it seems…”

“Snow… Woman?” she translated hesitantly, turning around toface the man and finding out Ardyn looked… Different. Maybe it was the waythe lighting inside was set, but he seemed to be outlined by the lamps, almostas if a faint glow enveloped his form and giving him an ethereal vibe. “What doyou mean?”

“The legend varies, my dear. Each region has its own version,but my personal favorite version is the one of the snow woman that appears whenthe first heavy snow falls, and who comes to steal the vitality and life forceof the men with deadly kisses. They supposedly freeze their victims to death…”

Aranea hadn’t realized she had been staring at his lips untilthey curved into a smirk once more. “Well. Not a bad way to go, yes? A kissfrom a woman in a white scenery like this.”

“No… Not bad at all.” It was also harder to swallow now, butAranea chalked it up to the ghost story.

III.

When Aranea’s skills with the local language advanced enough, shewas able to tell her classmates about the place she was staying at and how herhost looked like. She did notice a couple of her friends made surprisedexpressions at the moment she disclosed the location, but the description ofArdyn changed their stunned expressions into excitement.

“Aranea-chan, that man sounds like a really handsome one!”

She had to giggle – of all the comments she expected, that wasdefinitively the one she thought Japanese girls would be too shy to make, butapparently… They could get really comfortable with you once you made it as afriend, “I kind of… Agree, I think? He probably is old enough to be my dad,Sayuri-chan. Maybe I haven’t been exactly thinking about kissing him…” Or hadshe?

“Oh, that’s not a problem at all. My parents had an arrangedmarriage back at my home town and he was her senior for a lot of years… Still,they are still happily married.”

“I had this friend too, from high school… She used to dateolder men to get expensive gifts from them. Minako would certainly got a lot ofthings from a man like Izunia-san!”

At this point, Aranea wished she had pictures to show them –why was she always forgetting to take pictures of Ardyn? Maybe she could borrowone of the portraits she saw on a bookshelf, he looked like he fancied gettingpictures taken at these places where you dressed up with clothes from bygoneeras – at least the gentlemanly personality matched.

“Look, I’ll bring a picture over and you guys can help me ifit’s super wrong or not, okay?”

Hanae and Sayuri giggled, then exchanged a glance beforeeyeing Aranea again. “Aranea-chan, you’re weird. There’s nothing wrong aboutage.”

IV.

“That is so lame.”

Ardyn merely turned his head around, amber eyes focusing onthe expressions Aranea was making at the movie they were watching. Horrible,cliche horror movies from decades past had become a tradition of sorts at theIzunia household on Friday (the day also seemed to be the best suited one forthat, even if Japan had no issues with that particular day of the week as onethat could bring bad luck). The woman had a glass of wine in one hand and apackage of tiramisu-flavored pocky on he lap – really classy.

“What do you mean, my dear?”

“I mean… Seriously, you’re a girl and you’re driving byyourself, and then the car breaks down. Conveniently close to this big housewhere just this one guy with that eerie vibe about him lives. Of course itstarts to rain and clearly the phone is down, so you have no choice but tosleep at this old bedroom with a 4-poster bed and all that stuff.”

Her host was now outright smiling at her, stealing one of thesweet sticks for himself – Aranea remained amusingly outraged at the lady inthe movie, which was ridiculously ironic given the fact she was in a verysimilar situation herself – despite not knowing it. “This guy is obviously notalive… Or worse. And she is, like, accepting his offer to stay the night!”

At this point, the older man laughed and the sound of hisvoice broke Aranea out of her movie-induced reveries. She locked gazes withArdyn, realizing how she had felt that laugh more than heard it originally,being so close to his body when they were both sharing the couch and how it hadfelt… Nice.

Damn her friends at school, really. And damn Ardyn for beingsmirking and smiling all the time – it was hard to keep her mind off… Certainplaces and certain things when he did that.

“You’re laughing because you’ll never need to ask a strangerman to sleep at his house for one night, right? I know I’m bound to do it oneday, if I’ve learned anything from these movies.”

“Perhaps it won’t be such a ghastly experience, Aranea. Maybeyou’ll even… Come to enjoy…” his hands went for the snack again – or so Araneathought; but then the digits veered into a different direction and brushedagainst her chin, tilting her head up ever so slightly so their eyes could lockand she could feel the soft caress of a thumb over her lower lip, “Theexperience itself.”

Damn.

“…The experience?”

“The experience of spending one night with a strange man.After all, aren’t you living with someone you never thought you’d meet before?”

Oh, that.

“I’d hardly call you a stranger after these months, Ardyn.”

He smiled – again. And Aranea’s pale green eyes followed thattransformation, eagerly and more hungrily than she cared to admit.

“Good to hear that, my dear.”

V.

Karaoke had started out as something meant to help Aranea getused to one of the favorite pastimes of every salaryman in Tokyo, as well aspracticing her Japanese reading skills. But the moment she found out thatalcohol was served and these lovely places were open 24/7, she started to likethem a lot more. The woman had a fidelity card from Big Echo and could nowvirtually greet the staff of the closest unit by name.

It was that bad.

Sometimes, she would go there with school friends; sometimes,she would drag Ardyn. He had a nice voice and he knew a lot of really old,dramatic songs that were wonderfully enhanced by his timbre and it was kind ofamazing to see how he transformed from the moment he picked up the microphone.Aranea was more of the pop songs of the current days, and she tried to stick tothe new singles and releases that played on the radio.

But eventually, drinking made it impossible for her to readeven the basic kanjis and she switched to cheesy and iconic western pop music.As someone who had grown up during the 90s, she knew an embarrassingly hugeamount of Britney Spears songs by heart – and although one could think it didn’tmatch her personality, a drunk Aranea made for a very good dancer and Britneyimpersonator.

Luckily for her, while it wasn’t Vegas, there weren’t camerasin the individual rooms.

‘Break the Ice’ had been her pick, and she had started itnormally enough, barely looking at the screen since she knew it all by heart;instead she used the available furniture as props for her dance moves,eventually landing on her host’s lap while singing: “Let me break the ice / allowme to get you right,” she dipped her head lower then, lips brushing againstArdyn’s ear shell, “But you warm up to me / baby I can make you feel…”

The woman knew, deep down, that she was pushing her luck – butwhen Ardyn responded to her teasing by holding her close and whispering intoher own ear, Aranea dropped the microphone and the song played without anyvoice over for a while – she was too busy staring right into these amber irises.

But the moment he smirked, again, her eyes were drawn downwardsand she actually when groaned when he licked his lips and widened the smile. Itwas official – Ardyn was now tempting her, seeing just how far she was willingto go.

And Aranea maybe would have done it if the phone hadn’t rung,letting them know that their time was up. The girl almost fell to the floorwhile trying to remove herself from her lap, but Ardyn was entirelycomposed as he picked up the phone and announced they were going to be headingdownstairs.

VI.

While winter had been magical in Japan, nothing compared tothe summer – for one, it was way hotter than anything she had experienced backin the US; but the sheer amount of traditions, special foods and fireworksfestival was memorable.

The hanabis were a must-see, Ardyn told her. Something thateveryone took part in and that was well worth the expense of buying a yukata.Aranea did so, and she was really happy to have followed Ardyn’s advice to buyone with a ready-made obi knot – it was fucking hard to do it by herself. Themoment she finished getting dressed and stepped in the living room, she couldswear that her host had stopped breathing for a second.

“You look beautiful, my dear.”

She made a small bow, a smile on her lips for once – well, atleast she could still get him speechless after so many occasions where thereverse thing happened. Ardyn looked really regal in a somber yukata – his darkhair and pale skin made for a striking combo and she was really pleased to seehow mesmerizing they were as soon as they passed a mirrored wall on their wayto the subway.

Their destination was Asakusa – a traditional place for that,Ardyn told her. Aranea was very much her own woman, but she was enjoyingwalking around with their arms linked and buying all the food available at thesmall street stands, as well as laughing at his observations and enjoying thecheerful atmosphere.

She was caught off-guard by the first firework – her hostlaughed at her, but hold her firmly against him and made sure they had a nicespot to watch the hanabi. Aranea spent almost the entire time looking up, inawe of the different colors and shapes – it was nothing like the 4thof July. But eventually she found herself looking to the side, and watching theprofile of her host being illuminated by the fireworks instead.

“I’m afraid you’re missing the spectacle, my dear.”

Of course Ardyn had caught her staring – he had an uncannysixth sense. But in the middle of all these people and considering all themonths they had spent together, Aranea merely smiled in return. This was it –she had enough. She had pondered time and time over this and she had a verdict.

Aranea stood on her tiptoes, tugging at his yukata sleeves toget his attention before pressing their lips together. Ardyn was… Smiling. Thatmuch she could feel, but it was quickly gone in favor of parting his lips andallowing her entrance, indulging Aranea before claiming control of the kisshimself and leaving her breathless at the end, with her heart out of controland the blood drumming in her ears loud enough to override any firework.

“No… The spectacle has just started.”

Predictably, Ardyn smiled – and it was fucking great nothaving to hold back and kissing the infuriating smirks away.