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animakupo · 6 years

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Unwavering (Ignis x Reader)

for the anony who requested iggy angst!!! with the following prompts:

#2: “Not you again”

#3: “Why do you hate me?”

#34: “I don’t deserve to be loved”

actually nonnie just said i could choose from either of the three but lol i am a Greedy Bitch™ who wants Validation from online strangers so i integrated all of the prompts (((they all worked out for the piece anyway hehehe)))

i worked on this nonstop bc idk i wanna make y’all happy with requests!! ironic bc this has some angst but uh.... i’m a sucker for happy endings so don’t worry everyone is happy in the end yay!!!!!!

(((thank you also to everyone who has sent love for The Way to a Man’s Heart like wow??? i thought it was shitty but a lot of y’all seemed to like it so thank u very much for being such darling angels mwah))))

here’s a more developed piece because i wanted to explore some character growth for iggy and his devotion to the throne whoop

word count: 5.8k+, unrequited feelings bc i LIVE FOR THIS SHIT, angst maybe, spoilers for ffxv

Ignis Scientia was a man known for many things. To those who frequented the Citadel, he was known as the young retainer of Prince Noctis. To some of the staff serving the royal family, Ignis was known for having a magic touch when it came to the kitchen. To his peers, the young man was regarded as hardworking, refined, and immaculately patient.

He had to be, if he was dealing with the stubborn prince, after all.

But, if there was one thing Ignis Scientia wasn’t known for, it was for losing his composed front in public. You, however, were an exception.

As a relative of Prince Noctis, you were a frequent — though not necessarily unwelcome — presence at the Citadel. Every summer, without fail, you would pay a visit to your “Uncle Reggie” — who would always welcome you with “the best hug in all of Eos” — and play with your cousin Noctis.

Though not much for socializing, Noctis — for the most part, at least — often looked forward to your visits, if only because you could get him out of his tutoring sessions and other princely obligations. “I have to go entertain the princess,” he would say whenever you arrived. “Duty calls.”

Having Noctis avoid his lectures was a headache enough for Ignis on any normal day, but with you in the picture? It was nothing short of a nightmare for the young Scientia.

You were hard-headed (more so than Noct, which was a feat in itself), obnoxiously loud, and awfully careless in a palace such as the Citadel. Noctis would argue that you “lit up the place” with your endless supply of energy, but if Ignis were to be frank, he thought you were a bit too much for him.

Though you had no bearing on the throne, you were still royalty under the Lucis Caelum line. Thus, as a member of House Scientia, Ignis was bound to you regardless of how often you got on his nerves.

Which was pretty often, and you weren’t even at the Citadel for the entirety of the year.

“Hi, Iggy!” you chirped at him during one of your summer stay-ins at the Citadel. “Whatcha doin’?”

“Not you again,” Ignis muttered under his breath. Time and time again, he couldn’t fathom what it was about you that grated on his nerves. Was it the lack of control in the volume of your voice whenever you called at him? Was it how reckless you ran around the Citadel, thus posing as a threat to the many valuables that decorated the palace? Or was it simply because Ignis had merely accepted Noctis as his sole responsibility, and so the added weight of you in the picture only placed more pressure over his delicate shoulders?

Whatever it was, Ignis had to remind himself to retain his cool composure, lest you throw a tantrum and cause an even bigger ruckus at the Citadel.

“What was that?”

Ignis cleared his throat. “Nothing.” Adjusting his glasses, he regarded you coolly with a nod. “How may I help you, Princess?”

You beamed, thoroughly basking in the royal retainer’s attention. “Sleepy Boy’s taking his royal nap, and I’m bored! Wanna play with me?”

“I’m sorry, Princess, but I’ll have to decline,” Ignis replied. “I have other things I must attend to.”

“But-“

“You can wait for Prince Noctis in the gardens, if you’d like. I hear the lavenders are blooming this time of the year.”

“Ig-“

“I’ll see you at supper. Good day.”

With his back turned to you, Ignis had failed to notice the tears welling up in your eyes that day.

Despite the fact that Ignis was only a year older than you, his poise and elegance made you feel like you were always lightyears behind him. It was due to this that you looked up to him a lot — a confession you had confided in Noctis many times during your yearly visits.

“How does Iggy do it, Noct?” you had asked after the festivities for your 10th birthday had wrapped up. You had opted to celebrate the day with your favorite people (“Sleepy Boy and Iggy! Oh, and you too, Uncle Reggie!”), and in the aftermath of the festivities, you and the prince were sprawled on his bed, too worn out to even bother getting changed into sleepwear.

Glancing at you from his handheld gaming device, Noctis asked, “Do what?”

“Do everything!” you cried, flopping down next to your best friend. “He’s only one year ahead of me, but he seems so much more…”

“Ancient?”

“No!” You whacked Noctis on the head, earning you a snort from the prince. “More mature! Iggy is so mature! I wanna be like him someday.”

“I dunno (Name), being Iggy doesn’t seem like a lot of fun.”

You frowned, brows furrowing at Noctis’ comment. “Why not?”

“He’s always doing stuff that the adults do. All the boring things.”

“Isn’t he allowed to hang out with us and take a break?”

“He is,” Noctis insisted. “But he’s always acted more like mom to me than anything. I’ve never really seen him slack off. Not even once.”

“Huh.”

“Yeah.”

The next year, you made it a point to visit Noctis much earlier than your usual scheduled arrival in the summer. You had wanted to surprise Ignis on his birthday, and that was exactly what you did when you showed up at the Citadel several months earlier than expected.

“Hi, Iggy!” You wrapped your arms around him in greeting, ignoring how stiff he was at your embrace. “Happy birthday!”

“What are you doing here?” was all that came out of his mouth, but you were more focused on commemorating his birthday than dwelling on his lackluster response.

“I’m here to celebrate your birthday!” you replied happily, shoving a small box into his hands. “Sorry it’s only store-bought, but all the other cakes I tried to bake kinda… deflated, heh.”

Ignis offered a short bow. “I appreciate the sentiment, Princess, but I have a meeting to attend to.” He handed the box back into your grasp almost apologetically. “You can share that with Noct. I’m sure he will enjoy it immensely.” Turning on his heels, he nodded at you before offering a few more words. “I hope you enjoy your stay.”

And with that, he left you there, standing dumbfounded with a box of cake in your hands and a hurt heart in your chest.

When it was time for you to enter high school, you became a permanent fixture at the Citadel. At this age, Ignis had already grown accustomed to your rambunctious personality, though that wasn’t to say he particularly sought out your company on his own accord. He liked to think that he simply tolerated your presence.

You always wished he liked you more, though, especially with your growing feelings for him.

“No fair, Noct!” you whined. “Now that I get to stay here at the Citadel, you’re gonna go and leave me to find a place of your own?”

The prince rolled his eyes at your antics. “I’ve been stuck here all my life, (Name). Don’t you think it’s about time that I at least get some time away from home?” You pouted at him, which only caused Noctis to chuckle. “Don’t dwell on it too much. We still have a year together before I’m off to high school anyway.”

You sighed dramatically. “At least I’ll have Iggy all to myself while you’re gone.”

“Well,” he drawled, “not exactly.”

Your groan sounded more exaggerated than the norm. “He’s gonna trail after you even when you’re away?” you complained, crossing your arms in frustration. “How am I going to get to use my womanly charms on him now?”

Noctis blanched. “Hey, it’s not like I asked him to dote on me. And since when have you been a woman?”

“Since puberty, you dweeb!” You made a motion to smack him on the head, but after years of training, the prince’s reflexes were much quicker now. You made no comment on his fast movements, but you were definitely impressed — and a little proud — by how much Noctis had grown over the years.

“Really?” As proud as you were of Noctis, you had to admit that the smirk on his face was still a little annoying. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“Loser.”

“Brat.”

“Says the Sleepy Boy who gets cranky whenever he misses his nap.”

“I’ll have you know that we all need sleep to function properly.”

“Not in excess like you do, Sleepy Boy.”

And thus commenced a wrestling match between you and Noctis, your bitterness over his impending absence — and the lack of Ignis’ company, no less — long forgotten at the back of your mind.

High school was not what you thought it would be.

As a member of the royal family — never mind the fact that you weren’t even interested in inheriting the throne, nor were you even technically eligible to take over after King Regis, especially with Noctis having been groomed as the heir since his youth — many of your schoolmates flocked to you without any regard for your personal space.

Ignis had presumed you would have thrived in the spotlight, as revelling in people’s attention was something he had seen you enjoy during your many summers at the Citadel. It thus came as a surprise when, on what he was told was your first day in high school, you came knocking at his apartment door, looking rattled and frightened.

“Hi, Iggy,” you greeted shakily, your eyes lacking the usual mirth Ignis had always seen you carry. It was rather unnerving, having you suddenly show up at his doorstep looking all sullen and downcast. “Sorry for coming here unannounced. I didn’t know where to go, a-and…”

Your voice began to crack. Ignis was alarmed by the sudden manifestation of tears in your eyes; in all his years of watching over both you and Noctis, he had never been privy to your teardrops, so this was a sight that clenched at his heart rather unexpectedly.

“Please, come in.” He ushered you into his home, gingerly leading you to sit on the nearby sofa. “Tea?” he offered quietly, being careful not to aggravate your already bleak mood.

You shook your head. “No thanks. Can… can you just… stay here for a bit? With me?”

With the way you were looking at him so pleadingly — desperately — Ignis knew he wouldn’t be able to decline your request even if he wanted to.

What Ignis found rather odd, however, was that he didn’t want to deny you of your wish.

It had been a good while since the Royal Adviser last saw you. While he still wasn’t particularly fond of you, per se, his patience at least grew the older he became, and with it came a more formidable tolerance for your presence. He had a duty to the Lucis Caelum line — and in effect, to you — and he would stick to this commitment to the end of the line.

Today, though… today was decidedly different. For the very first time, he was seeing you not as a member of the royal family, but simply as you were: a young, vulnerable girl seeking comfort in his familiarity.

The two of you stayed there for the remainder of the evening. Not talking. Not touching. But you were together, and that was all you needed.

Ignis later found out from Noctis that your… episode on your first day of high school revealed your intolerance for crowds, especially with the likes of fanatic, hormonal teenagers — who wanted nothing but to rub elbows with royalty — swarming you left and right.

You had kept to yourself for the remainder of your high school life, but ever since that unforeseen visit to Ignis’, you noticed a drop in students harassing you on campus.

You liked to think that a certain Royal Adviser had something to do with the shift in treatment from your schoolmates.

Ignis never said anything about it. He deemed it unnecessary that you be aware of his involvement with campus officials and the warning words he had uttered regarding your safety and well-being.

You were his responsibility, after all.

A few days before Noctis was set to leave for Altissia, you decided to throw a party in celebration of not just his engagement, but your new assignment in Accordo as well. The small get-together — which consisted of you, Noctis, Ignis, Gladio, and Prompto — was mostly for your own enjoyment. You were being sent off to Altissia ahead of Noctis’ departure, so it would be a while before you would get to see your favorite people again.

“I don’t understand why you can’t just wait a while and come with us, (Name),” Prompto commented with a pout. “We’re all going the same direction anyway.”

You shrugged. “As they say: duty calls.” Taking a swig of your drink, you gestured for Gladio to pour more wine into your glass. “Besides, we’ll see each other soon enough. Don’t worry about it.”

“I think you should slow down on the drinks, (Name).” Noctis attempted to swipe your wine glass from your grasp, but just like the prince, your own reflexes had also improved over time. “Don’t want you hungover on the trip to Accordo tomorrow.”

“I’ll be fiiine,” you sang, leaning onto Gladio for support. “Live a little, Noct-Noct!”

“Prince Charmless is right,” Gladio said as he attempted to steady your swaying form. “Drink too much and you might fall asleep waiting for your boat.”

You scoffed. “If anyone’s falling asleep, it’ll be Sleepy Boy over here.” You poked Noctis on the nose, causing him to scrunch up his face almost reflexively. “You better not fall asleep before your wedding, Noct. Can’t keep sweet ol’ Luna waiting too long. She’ll be expecting a proper prince waiting for her at the altar!”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

“We don’t have enough time for that,” Ignis deadpanned, causing the rest of your party to erupt in laughter.

As the night dwindled, your group fell into a comfortable silence. Noctis was already dozing off, while Gladio and Prompto were in their little corner, with the former teaching the blond a few “tricks” up his sleeve on how to “charm the women.”

That left you with Ignis.

“Hey, Iggy,” you called softly. “Could I talk to you for a minute? In private?”

Ignis was in the middle of taking Noctis’ glass from him — as his charge was bound to lose his grip on the drink, what with him going in and out of slumber — when you asked for him. “Certainly,” he said, and the two of you wandered off a little ways away from your friends.

“Can you believe it?” Your words broke the quiet between you and Ignis, the moon and stars serving as your spotlight. “Who would have thought that our Noct would go and get himself hitched? And to the Oracle, at that! I never even dreamed that he would be the first of us to get engaged, let alone start his way towards married life.”

“Indeed.” Ignis adjusted his glasses, a habit of his you had grown fond of over the years. “Granted, the engagement was brought on by the treaty, but regardless, it’s certainly enough reason to celebrate.”

You nodded in agreement. “Definitely.”

“So what was it you wanted to discuss, Princess?”

You felt yourself grow warm even beyond the effects of the alcohol in your system. Under Ignis’ intense stare, you couldn’t help but fidget a bit. The Royal Adviser had grown all the more refined in the past couple of years, making him even more attractive than he already was to begin with.

Not only did he now tower over you with his height, his jawline became more chiseled, giving him a sharper and much more striking face. You also took notice of how much his shoulders had broadened, providing him with a much more masculine build.

Simply put, Ignis Scientia was a work of art. That’s all there really was to it.

“I…” You gulped nervously. “There was something I wanted to tell you before I left.”

“Yes?”

It was now or never. “I… I love you, Ignis. I’m in love with you.”

You shut your eyes almost immediately, too scared of what Ignis’ reaction would be. Had you kept your eyes open, you would have registered the shock on his face. There were tellings of tenderness around his eyes at your confession, but you remained blissfully unaware as you waited with bated breath for his response.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity too long, Ignis spoke. “This is…”

“… yes…?”

“This is highly improper.”

Your stomach fell at his words, eyes opening in shock. “What… what do you mean?” Already, you could feel the tears threatening to make their appearance, but you willed yourself not to let them escape. Not yet. Not until he explained himself.

“What I mean is that you must dismiss this nonsense at once, Princess.”

“Nonsense?” you croaked, hurt by how savagely Ignis was taking this. “How is this nonsense? I love you, Ignis!”

The sharp glare Ignis had sent you that day would be burned into your mind forever. “No, you don’t. You’re not mature enough to know what you’re talking about, (Name).”

“And you are?” Though your tone was scathing, the stray tears that managed to leak from your eyes betrayed you. “I know you’re smarter than me, Ignis, but I’m not that far behind you in age.”

“What you manage to keep up in age speaks nothing of your wisdom, Princess.” He looked away from you, the deep frown seemingly aging him beyond his years. “You’re not in love with me. You’re drunk.”

“Stop calling me that!” you snapped, rubbing at your eyes furiously. What was going on with Ignis? Your gentle, sweet, patient Iggy? “Don’t tell me what I feel, Ignis! I’m sober enough to know what it is that I feel for you, and it’s love! I love you! Why can’t you accept that?”

“Why can’t you accept rejection when you see it, Princess?”

You fell silent at his remark. The tears were flowing freely now, and you did nothing to conceal them any longer. Defeatedly, with your voice barely over a whisper, you uttered, “Why do you hate me?”

“I don’t-“

“You do,” you asserted tearfully. “You’ve never liked me. Even when we were kids, you’ve always hated me, Iggy.”

“Princess…”

“But me?” You laughed mockingly, the chuckles being drowned by your overpowering sorrow. “I’ve always loved you.”

That was the last Ignis saw of you, for the next time you met, his eyes could comprehend nothing but darkness.

His only regret was having your heartbroken face — from pain that he had been the source of — as his final memory of your time together before everything fell apart.

Several things revolved around Ignis’ mind as he processed the loss of his eyesight. What use was he now if he couldn’t even see his prince? Would he ever be able to cope? How was Noctis handling the passing of Lunafreya?

No matter what he thought of, though, you continued to remain at the fore of his mind.

He wondered where you were now. After that night, you had left for Accordo very early in the morning. Ignis had failed to see you off, as did the rest of his companions, Noctis included. It was as if you had made it a point to avoid all of them on the day of your departure.

He couldn’t blame you if you were avoiding him specifically, especially after how badly he had handled your confession.

The silver lining in your prompt expedition to Accordo was the fact that you were safe from the fall of Insomnia. Ignis at least had that to tide his worries over for the time being, though it did nothing to ease the gaping hole in his heart at his actions from your final conversation.

He had attempted to contact you countless times during the duration of his travel to Altissia with Noctis and the rest of their party. In spite of his efforts, you were adamant in rejecting his calls, though this was of no surprise to Ignis. Noctis, Prompto, and even Gladio had tried calling you as well — and they were especially consistent after they caught wind of Niflheim’s betrayal — but they were always redirected to either the dial tone or your voice mail.

You were simply unreachable.

“I pray that you are safe, Princess,” Ignis whispered softly into the air as he wobbled off the edge of his bed. He reached out for his walking stick, feeling the frustration of everything that had occurred become incredibly overwhelming. “There is so much I have left unsaid.”

“I told him not to fall asleep before his wedding.” Though your message was said in jest, your watery voice was telling enough of the grief you felt. “But did he listen? Of course he didn’t. That stupid Sleepy Boy.”

“Yeah.” Prompto chuckled sadly, wiping a tear from his eye. “That’s Noct for ya.”

“He’ll be back soon,” Gladio said, though the waver in his confidence was painfully obvious. “Or I’ll bring him here myself.”

You sniffed and turned towards the one who had remained silent during your tearful reunion. “And what about you, Iggy? I swear to the Astrals above, you really spoil Noct too much. Now look where it got you!”

Ignis frowned, expecting a comment or two on his eyesight. Or rather, his lack thereof. You were sure to offer pity for his handicap. In fact, he even expected you to mock him as a means of retaliating over the hurt he had lashed out on you that fateful night. It wasn’t even that long ago when you went your separate ways, and yet, it felt almost as if decades had come and gone since then.

He would have accepted any form of punishment from you, really, so long as it would mean he could obtain your forgiveness once and for all.

But, it seemed some things never did change, including the way you had never failed to render Ignis speechless and catch him off guard. What you said next made his cheeks burn — a sensation he never thought he would ever be able to feel anymore, particularly at this point in time when everything seemed bleak and hopeless.

“Look at what you’ve done to yourself.” Your voice was so sweet and so gentle, it made Ignis want to cry. The delicate graze of your fingers over his damaged face made him shiver in delight. “Not to worry. Scars or no, you’re still a work of art to me, Iggy!” Lowering your voice enough for just the two of you to hear, you murmured, “I’ll always love you no matter what.”

Everyone thought Ignis broke down into a heaping mess in your arms as his way of grieving for Noctis, but what no one knew was that he was crying over the love you still held for him even after all this time.

With the lack of communication between the two of you since your disappearance, Ignis had barely held onto any hope of possibly finding you again.

And yet, here you were, safe and sound with the rest of civilization at Lestallum. Not only did you look well — rather, you sounded well to Ignis’ ears, at the very least — you had even welcomed him into your loving embrace.

He knew he was entirely undeserving of your kindness and affection, especially with the memory of how he treated you still haunting him, but he allowed himself this momentary reprieve of selfishness. Just this once, Ignis gave himself this small window of putting his own needs before anyone else’s.

He needed you, and here you were, ready and waiting to catch him at any given moment.

“Shh, Iggy, you’re okay,” you cooed into his ears that night. At that very moment, Ignis knew he could go on — blind or otherwise — so long as he had you to lead him through the darkness.

Had you always sounded this angelic, or was his improved hearing warping his memory of your voice?

Or, could it be that he was hearing you not through brand new ears due to his lack of vision, but through the new development of his endearment towards his princess?

“You’re safe, Iggy, you’re safe,” you repeated like a mantra as you soothed his distress with your presence alone. You combed your fingers through his tresses as he held onto you desperately, not ready to face reality just yet. “We’re here. You’re not alone, Iggy. We’re here. We can do this.”

Ignis knew that you, too, were crying as well. He caught the soft whimpers that were scattered between your warm assurances. Even then, he couldn’t bring himself to be strong enough for the two of you for the time being.

Here, in your arms, he was safe, and he wasn’t ready to let go of the safety you provided just yet.

None of you addressed Ignis’ breakdown that night. It was a breakthrough for sure, but if Ignis chose not to bring it up, then neither were any of you going to forcefully pick at the wound he had opted to bury.

With both Noctis and Lunafreya absent, darkness surged into the everyday. Ignis, ironically, was one of the first to adjust into this nightmare of a world. He had lost his vision a little before the darkness took over, after all, so the lack of daylight didn’t make much of a difference to him.

What did make a difference was your constant companionship.

Ignis had yet to formally discuss that dreadful night before your trip to Accordo. He owed you more than an apology at this point, and yet, he kept mum, faltering at each opportunity whenever you greeted him with that sunny disposition of yours.

“How do you do it, Princess?” Ignis had asked one day, nearly a year into this life of darkness.

“Do what, Iggy?”

“How have you kept your light so brilliant all this time?” He readjusted his grip on his walking stick as he felt you settle yourself next to him. “Not even Prompto has managed to remain this bright, and he has always been the most cheerful out of all of us.”

You slipped your hand into one of his gloved ones, giving it a squeeze before explaining, “Well, I gotta be the light for you, Iggy. It’s the least I can do while all of you are out there fighting to protect us.”

“But why me?”

“Why not you?”

“I don’t deserve your compassion, Princess.”

“Of course you do! What you don’t deserve is getting your eyesight taken from you, but you’ve always been the selfless one, so I guess I’ll let that slide.” You released his hand in order to caress his face. “You best believe Noct’s gonna get a whipping from me when I see him! He owes you big time.”

“He owes me nothing. I live in his servitude.”

“Well, I guess that’s always been the case, but still-“

“However, I do owe you an apology.”

“Huh?” Your light touches on his face halted. “An apology for what?”

“An apology for how I treated you that night before you left for Accordo,” Ignis explained, a hint of regret lining his words. “I handled the situation inappropriately, and I hurt you in the process.” He blindly reached out for your hands, and you met him halfway, offering your grasp in his shaky one. “For that, I beg for your forgiveness.”

“Iggy, it’s okay. I… I got over it a long time ago. I shouldn’t have sprung something so big on you before I left anyway.”

“Regardless, I am deeply remorseful for how I treated you that night, (Name). You did not deserve to have your feelings regarded so poorly, least of all by someone such as myself.”

Much like that night, silence enveloped the two of you for a few agonizing moments. Ignis sat there, waiting patiently for what you had to say. Eventually, you let out a sigh, leaning a little into his side.

“Can I ask you something then, Iggy?”

“Go ahead, Princess.”

“You… did you ever really…” You were struggling to find the right words. Ignis gave you the push you needed by wrapping his arm around you. “I always felt like you hated me, Iggy. Did you?”

His answer was instantaneous. “Never.”

“Then how come you were always so… how come you always gave me the cold shoulder?” You traced patterns into his thigh as you said this, and Ignis struggled to focus on your words more than the tantalizing feel of your touch. “I mean, I always knew your duty was to Noct, and I was never jealous about that or anything, but…” Another sigh. “Why is it that you were never really friendly with me? And why… why were you so adamant about shutting me down when I confessed to you that night?”

There it was. The hurdle Ignis had to face if he wanted to garner your forgiveness.

“Truth be told, Princess, I was young and naive, and I simply did not know how to handle two Nocts at once.”

“Hey! I object!” you exclaimed. It wasn’t long before your protests fell into a brief wave of giggles. “Yeah, we were a handful together, weren’t we?”

“I wasn’t always as wise as you thought me to be.”

“Still, you were pretty mature for your age. I always admired you for that.”

Ignis felt himself blush at your praise. “As for that night…” He took a deep breath before turning to you. With his lack of vision, Ignis tried to keep his gaze trained towards what he surmised were your eyes. “I… I was afraid, to be frank.”

“Afraid?”

“The very idea of having a member of the royal family hold a great deal of intimate fondness for me in such a manner was terrifying. I did not consider it to be appropriate for me to pursue any inklings of romance with you, especially with my obligations to Noct.”

It took you a few moments to process what he said. “I see.”

“Unfortunately, I was much too brash in my dismissal of your feelings. I was blinded by fear to even consider a possibility with you. You may think me mature, but at the time, I was anything but. I was frightened by the prospect of having to entertain my already conflicting feelings for you.”

Ignis’ voice began to falter, but he continued nevertheless. “Since then, I have lived in regret over my actions. If I had opted to voice my thoughts better, then perhaps we could have…” He shakily reached out for your face, surprised to feel wetness seeping into his gloves. “I am truly sorry. Please, please don’t cry, Princess.”

“S-sorry.” You hastily wiped away your tears, only for Ignis to beat you to it. Instead, you clung onto his hands, which cupped your face in a tender hold. “Sorry, hah. I guess I’m still an emotional mess, huh?”

“There is no need for apologies, Princess. You are sublime just the way you are.”

“Ignis, I…” Your grip tightened around his hands. “I still love you. I love you, Ignis. I love you.” You couldn’t help but cry now, the sound of your wails tearing into Ignis’ heart. “I-I’m-I’m sorry, you don’t have to reciprocate or anything. I just… I just wanted you to know that I never stopped. I never stopped loving you, Ignis.”

How? How had you remained so unwavering in your devotion to him even after he had hurt you so? He didn’t deserve you.

The look of sadness on Ignis’ face made your chest tighten painfully. “I don’t deserve to be loved. Not by you. Never by you.”

“Ignis, no-“

“You deserve everything, Princess,” he said brokenly. “I can’t give you anything. Not anymore.”

“Ignis,” you interjected, “I know you’re blind, but don’t you see? You are my everything. You always have been.”

Ever so gently, you pressed your lips to his, finally breaking through the last of the walls around his heart. To your utmost joy, Ignis gave in and matched your passion.

Propriety be damned, he at least deserved this one thing, didn’t he? His entire life had been dedicated to Noctis and the royal family. For once — just this once — he could let his guard down, could he not? Did he not deserve his own piece of joy as well?

Surely he was allowed to find a happily ever after with you, right?

Fervently, Ignis melted into your kiss, expressing all the dormant feelings he had suppressed over the years.

With his lips merely a whisper away, you murmured, “Will you say it, Ignis? Do you love me?”

“Always. Forever.” His lips sought yours in a frantic dance. “I love you.”

Noctis wanted to say he was surprised when he found you and Ignis, many years later, sporting matching bands on your left ring fingers. However, he knew such a union had been a long time coming, even before he was absorbed into the crystal.

“About time, Specs,” the prince — now king — said. He turned to you, gaze turning just a touch softer. “Your womanly charms worked, eh?”

“At least I made it down the aisle,” you quipped, though your damp eyes were evident even in the darkness. “You just dozed off, like I knew you would. You always were one to oversleep, Sleepy Boy.”

“Hey, I’m back now, aren’t I?”

“Better late than never, I suppose,” Ignis remarked with a small smile. “Good to have you back, Noct.”

“Good to be back. Did the princess behave while I was gone, Iggy?”

Your laugh was watery. “Are you forgetting that I’m older than you?”

“It’s only by a year, (Name).”

“That still means she has 365 days over you, buddy,” Prompto teased. “You’ve been gone so long that she’s eons ahead of you now.”

“You’re making it sound like (Name)’s an old granny,” Gladio said, giving Prompto a light punch on the shoulder.

“I will be in no time!” you joked. “Having Noct as family really ages you prematurely.”

“Tell me about it,” Ignis added, joining in on the banter.

“How’d you do it, Iggy?” Prompto asked, the air surrounding Hammerhead feeling lighthearted for once thanks to the return of Noctis. “How’d you survive looking after these two all this time and lived to tell the tale?”

Ignis’ gaze turned much warmer as he glanced in your direction. “Unwavering perseverance is a must in this job, Prompto. I’m only fortunate enough to have learned from the best.”

He might not have seen it, but Ignis could feel just how brilliant your smile was at that moment.

A smile that was reserved just for him. All for him.

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shions-heart · 7 years

Text

(( @audioerf / @audreykare on Twitter has this awesome werecrow/werecat AU for Haikyuu!!, and some recent sketches she made feat. kuroken’s origin story sparked my inspiration, and I just had to write my interpretation of it XD I hope you enjoy it, Audrey!))

A deafening roar shakes the table in front of Kenma, causing his inkwell to tip over. He watches in dismay, as the ink spreads across his parchment. He frowns then, annoyance forming a headache that twitches above his eyebrow.

It took me two hours to draw that.

For the past three days, some creature in the woods beside his village has plagued them with growls and roars ranging from soft and pitiful to loud and threatening. Preliminary reports bring back a tale of a horrifying monster that appears to be stuck in some trees, and although everyone seems bothered by it, nobody has ventured to take care of it.

“It’ll probably eat us on sight!” one villager exclaims.

“Maybe if we send an army they’ll be able to defeat it!” another one suggests.

“Where are we going to get an army? Just let it be. It’ll starve itself eventually,” yet another says.

And on and on it goes. Kenma has grown tired of it. He hasn’t been able to sleep. His work continuously gets interrupted. Meditation is impossible.

Someone has to do something.

Gathering some meager supplies and picking up his wizard’s staff, Kenma sets for the woods the next morning. Those on the street call to him, warning him of the danger, telling him he’s a fool. Kenma ignores them all. If he dies, then maybe at least it’ll be quiet.

It doesn’t take him long to find the source of the noise, and he slows to a stop before it. Caught in the bramble and brush of the forest, sits a large beast. It’s easily three times larger than Kenma, towering above him. It has piercing golden eyes, a giant muzzle with rows of sharp, glistening teeth, and long thick fur covering its entire body. It resembles a giant wolf, or a lion . . . some massive animal-like creature.

Kenma stares, as it howls and roars and thrashes in the underbrush. Peering closer, Kenma can see why. It’s long fur has gotten tangled in the branches of three gnarled trees. Leaves surround the forest floor beneath the trees, the beast having shaken them off with its attempts to free itself.

As terrifying as the beast might’ve been under different circumstances, all Kenma feels in this moment is exasperation.

“You’re telling me all that noise was really just you throwing a temper tantrum?”

The beast stops abruptly, looking down at Kenma with a sharp gaze. Kenma suppresses a shiver at the power he feels emanating from the beast, but he can’t help but think that if this beast was all-powerful, it wouldn’t be stuck in a bunch of trees. It’s probably not as dangerous as it looks. So, squaring his shoulders, Kenma reaches into his knapsack and pulls out a large knife and sets to work.

At first, the beast wiggles around, attempting to free itself as Kenma hacks away at its fur.

“Stop that,” Kenma snaps. “You’re just going to make it worse.”

Surprisingly, the beast listens. It stops and simply watches, as Kenma carefully picks his way around the beast, finding the knots in the fur and sawing them away. He can hear the heavy breathing of the beast, feel its eyes on him, but he remains resolute in his mission. It hasn’t tried to attack him, so Kenma figures it’s safe enough, and he has his magic to defend against it if it decides to attack afterwards.

Finally, the last bit of tangled hair falls away. Kenma steps back slowly, as the beast moves to stand. Tucking the knife into his obi, Kenma grabs his staff, holding it in both hands in front of him. As the beast shakes itself free of the branches and takes a step forward, Kenma takes a step back, throwing up a ward between him and the creature.

The beast stops, tilting its head. It looks down at Kenma for a moment, before slowly lowering its head toward him. It opens its mouth, and Kenma doesn’t wait. He whacks the beast on the nose, grabs his knapsack, and sprints back toward the village.

His heart pounds wildly in his chest, as he reaches his home. He slams the door shut and locks it, not entirely sure why he’s shaking so badly. Nothing went wrong. In fact, everything went very smoothly. Perhaps too smoothly?

Not wanting to overthink it, Kenma draws himself a bath and gets ready for bed. In the blissful silence, he settles down for a long, well-earned nap.

**********

He awakes to the sound of a knock on his door. Frowning, he throws his blanket over his head, hoping whoever it is will go away. The knocking persists, though, and Kenma sits up with a sigh. Pushing his hair out of his face, he stalks over to the door and opens it with a faint scowl.

An unfamiliar man stands in front of him. He’s completely naked, with thick long hair falling wildly around his lean, muscular frame. It falls nearly to his waist, and tiny sticks and leaves are caught within the locks. Kenma stares, unblinking, as the man slowly grins, revealing sharp canines.

“Hi,” he says, his voice deep and rich.

Kenma slams the door shut.

“Hey, wait!” the man calls, his voice muffled behind the door. “It’s me! From the forest, remember? You saved my life!”

Kenma grimaces. He can’t have his neighbors hearing him and coming to investigate. Everyone knows everyone else in this village. This guy stands out and there will most certainly be questions and people gathering to look at the spectacle and bothering him and . . . ugh.

He opens the door again. The man looks back at him imploringly.

“I only wanted to thank you--”

Kenma reaches out to grab the man’s wrist, tugging him into the house. He shuts the door behind him, locking it and putting several wards on it, to keep anyone walking by from listening in. When he turns back around, the man has approached him, standing directly beside him. Kenma shrinks back against the door, wondering if he should’ve grabbed his staff.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” the man says. “I’m in your debt.” He drops to his knees in front of Kenma, bowing his unruly head of hair. “Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you.”

Kenma blinks, his cheeks warming. What is this? Some sort of weird dream?

“I just wanted some peace and quiet,” he mutters, looking away.

The man looks up. “No riches? No glory? No enhanced magic?” He appears perplexed.

Kenma narrows his eyes. What sort of creature is this? Able to grant these things? Able to shift its form? Should he even be trusting it?

“I’m good, thanks,” he says.

The man sits back on his heels, looking at a loss. He glances around the interior of Kenma’s home. It’s a modest house, with a single room. His bed sits against one wall, surrounded by spell books and story books. A fire pit is in the center of the room, with a low table and cushion beside it. On the table are a few parchments, his inkwell, and his brushes. His clothes are folded and kept in a crate beside the bed. Kenma wonders what the man is thinking.

Slowly, he inches away from the door, making his way toward the bed where he left his staff.

“So, um, you can go now,” he says pointedly. “I don’t need anything. I just wanted you to stop making so much noise.”

The man watches him, head tilted to the side. His golden eyes fixate on Kenma, and there’s an expression there that makes Kenma feel warm and uncomfortable at the same time. The man places a hand on his chest. “I’m Tetsurou,” he says.

“Okay.”

Tetsurou remains kneeling, waiting.

“I’m . . . Kenma,” Kenma offers after a moment.

Tetsurou grins. “Kenma . . . Kenma. Kenma,” he says slowly, as though tasting it.

Kenma’s face grows even hotter. “Stop that.”

Tetsurou moves forward, faster than Kenma can move away, and places himself directly in front of Kenma once more. He leans forward, apparently having no concept of personal space.

“I’m in your debt, Kenma,” he says, his eyes flickering over Kenma’s features. He grins again, a somewhat dopey grin that speaks of an affection that totally shouldn’t be there considering they’ve just met. “You saved my life.”

“I think you’re exaggerating,” Kenma says, his heart pounding faster despite himself.

Tetsurou picks up Kenma’s hand, pressing it against his chest. “What can I do for you? I have to pay you back for your kindness.”

“It wasn’t kindness. I told you, I just wanted you to shut up.”

Tetsurou laughs. “True enough, but I still owe you.”

“No, you don’t,” Kenma says, pulling his hand away.

“I do.”

“You don’t.”

“I do.”

“You don’t.”

Tetsurou tilts his head again. He looks around the room. “You live alone.”

Kenma crosses his arms over his chest. “So?”

Tetsurou looks back at him. “I can assist you, here. I can clean for you. Run errands for you. Keep you company. Warm you during the cold nights of winter.” He says this last one with a suggestive smirk.

Indignant, Kenma flicks his nose. “No, you won’t,” he says.

Tetsurou rubs his nose. “Well, I can help you with the other stuff anyway.”

Kenma sighs, looking away. He’s getting the feeling that no matter what he does, Tetsurou isn’t going to leave him alone until he pays off whatever debt he thinks he owes to Kenma. It’ll probably be easier and less of a hassle to just give him what he wants.

“Fine,” he says, after a moment. He looks back at Tetsurou with a frown. “But you’re not staying here looking like that. You’re a mess, and you’ll probably shed everywhere.”

Tetsurou’s eyes widen. “But I can stay?” he asks hopefully.

Kenma wonders why he looks so happy. “I guess.”

Tetsurou grins. “You won’t regret this.”

I regret it already.

That’s not strictly true, however. Kenma has to admit to himself that living alone, while it does have its perks, can be rather lonely, as well. He’s never had an interest in forming close connections to the others in the village, because, frankly, he’s bad at talking to people and making friends. There are plenty that he likes, but not many that he would consider bringing into his home.

But as Tetsurou sits in the bathtub, and Kenma sits behind him to help him work out the many tangles in his hair, he has to admit that it feels kind of nice. Tetsurou chatters on about his life in the woods and how he came to be stuck in the bushes, and it’s an amusing story. Kenma listens, fighting a smile, as he combs through the knots and burrs. It’s almost soothing, in a way. The repetitive motion, the low cadence of Tetsurou’s voice, the occasional splash of water as he cleans himself, it’s nice.

Don’t get used to it, Kenma tells himself. As soon as he’s satisfied, he’ll leave.

It takes them two and a half hours to finish cleaning and detangling Tetsurou’s hair. The sun has started to set, as Kenma helps pull the hair back from Tetsurou’s face into a large bun held together by a couple smooth sticks. There are some strands in the front, though, that are too short to pull back, and they hang in front of one of his eyes. The other looks back at Kenma, as he finally steps back, satisfied with his work.

Tetsurou’s wearing one of Kenma’s yukata, which is too short but fits well enough, and he actually looks human. He smiles, and Kenma suddenly realizes that he’s rather attractive. His heart flutters, much to his annoyance.

“Thank you,” Tetsurou says, bowing deeply. “Again.”

Kenma looks away, willing his cheeks to cool. “It was nothing.”

His stomach growls, and Tetsurou straightens. “You’re hungry,” he says.

“I’m fine.”

“I’ll return shortly!”

In an instant, he’s transformed into a massive cat with shaggy black fur. He slips out of the yukata and bounds toward the door. He bats at the lock and opens it, disappearing into the growing night. Kenma stares after him, somewhat doubting that he’ll really return.

He looks around at the mess they made, the long strands of hair on the floor, the dirty water in the tub, and sighs. Slowly, he starts cleaning, knowing he’s going to want to do it even less if he lies down now.

Not a half-hour later, however, the door bursts open and Tetsurou trots in triumphantly, soaking wet, and holding a large fish in his jaws. Kenma stares, as he places the fish at his feet, and shakes himself, the cat transforming into Tetsurou kneeling on the floor in front of him, naked once more.

He looks up at Kenma expectantly, proudly, and Kenma’s unsure of what he wants him to do. Slowly, he reaches out and pets the top of Tetsurou’s head.

“. . . Good boy.”

Tetsurou laughs. He grabs the yukata he left on the floor and pulls it on, as he stands. “You’ve done a lot, today. Rest. I’ll finish cleaning and prepare the meal.”

Kenma blinks, realizing that having company might not be the only perk to this arrangement. He steps over to the table, lowering himself on the cushion and turning to the parchment in front of him. Tetsurou whistles softly as he works, and Kenma finds it hard to concentrate.

He seems happy. Like he truly wants to stay here . . . with me.

Kenma peeks at Tetsurou from behind his hair, wondering what exactly he’s gotten himself into.

Whatever it is, however, he’s looking forward to seeing how it all plays out.

#kuroken #kuroo tetsurou #kozume kenma #kuroo x kenma #my writings #werecat au #sydrabbles

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