Lolol it's cheating when it's the mom thing. True. It is quite willingly blind. OTL
TOO BAD. IT IS COMING FOR YOU BARBARA. Well, you don't like him, and that is frankly enough.
Still, good on Ventus for achieving it. I mean, he did raise Ignis, he would know all the little ins and outs.
Nuuuu, he's fine. He can do it on his own. HE DUN WANT THIS. D:
Lolol you'd pay to see that powerpoint, huh? I'd say I'd make it for you, but I both loathe and cannot make powerpoint work for me, so it's not gonna happen. OTL
SURE IT IS. IF IT REQUIRES GOING ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HIS NORMAL ROUTE HOME. D<
Your mom doesn't, huh? My mom does. But not about me.
He does. Which does not work out in Ignis' favor sometimes, I know.
He doesn't have to prove anything! HE CAN DO IT ON HIS OWN.
Thank you. I swear. In class I was the only one who didn't love powerpoint. Of course I did terribly in that class and all year at that school anyway. OTL
All Prompto is hearing here is how no matter what he does he's gonna be a burden here. D:
Nope. Not about me. She always said that she was not going to be one of those mom's who thought their child could do no wrong. And she never was, although I was also probably one of those children she could have been blind about when I was younger and it would have been okay. o u o And she was never blind about the friends I liked and wanted to keep. No, no, just the ones who are really actually people she/I shouldn't be around. <.< And mostly now that I'm an adult.
Lolol of course he doesn't, this gives him an advantage.
BUT HE SHOULD. THAT IS THE RIGHT THING TO DO.
Well, I'm glad you at least got some entertainment out of it, because all I got was frustration and hate.
Ventus is also definitely the type
to tell Ig how cute he is after getting him all flustered.
Just imagine him getting Tiny Serious Ignis (tm) all flustered up and then being like
hue hue hue all Maes Hughes style lol.
DDDD :
THAT IS WHAT IS BEING SAID THOUGH.
Man I don't even remember what this is about but
LIEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
I can tell. But it doesn't leave me a lot of choice. She disapproves of the friends I want. Approves of the ones I don't. Or she tries to make sure that my friends are friends with us both. Because I can't possibly just want my own friends. That can't possibly be a problem. Which is at least a little bit of why I don't have friends to really hang out with irl. o u o And why she doesn't know I'm online at all anymore.
Lololol lookit how cute you are when you're flustered. Because that totally makes him feel better, right? I can imagine that though. Hue hue hue all Maes Hughes style
BUT THAT'S NOT WHAT HE GETS OUT OF IT.
It's about Fool Me Twice's writing is definitely going down hill from here. AND THAT IS THE TRUTHHHHHHHHH.
Lololol Uncle tellus is not here to make you feel better in this instance.
>D
He's here to take pictures and embarrass you with them later.
o u o
RIGHT? HE TOTALLY WOULD.
It's so easy to imagine.
It is, I know it is. I don't think SHE knows it is though. I don't think she'd know if you hit her with it on a brick. I won't even tell her that I went out to lunch with that girl yesterday, or that I did last week, because the normal response I get when I tell her I do things like that is "Oh, I wish I could go out to lunch with people like that." and that takes all the joy out of my doing it. But if you told her that, she'd just be all "That wasn't my intention. I'm just lonely." And do it again next time anyway. So.
Lol he's here to take pictures and embarrass you with them later. Typical parent. You have officially reached typical parent status, Ventus. It's really easy to imagine.
“Prompto?” Ignis tapped the blond’s check lightly, frowning slightly when the boy scarcely stirred. Perhaps he should have attempted this earlier, but he’d been loathe to wake the blond before he absolutely had to. Perhaps that had been a mistake.
Prompto groaned, eyes squeezing more tightly shut has he resisted the waking world. He tried to roll away from the touch, but there was nowhere to go, and Ignis was accustomed to the morning tribulations of a far more stubborn beast.
“Prompto.” Tap tap. “Wake up. I have something for you.” Being aspirin, of course. He had a glass of water, too, for that matter, and though he fully expected the boy to attempt to get out of it – particularly if this was his first time drinking to excess – he fully intended the blond to drink the full glass. Regardless of how swooshy it would feel in his stomach. The blond groaned, then one blue eyes slowly opened, squinting unhappily up at him. Another groan, and a hand lifted to cover his face, blocking out what little light filtered into the room.
“Apologies for waking you.” Ignis pitched his voice as softly as he was able, pressing the tablets into the younger male’s hand before following it with the glass of water. “I imagined you’d prefer I offer you a ride home to the alternative.” Having a hangover was bad enough without Uncle Ventus aggressively trying to feed you. Ignis had learned that lesson the hard way, naturally. And he could still remember the man’s glee.
The boy gave another long groan, but after a moment, pushed himself into an upright position, shuffling off towards the bathroom with his eyes squinted to almost closing and his countenance charmingly disheveled. Ignis took a moment to neaten where he’d slept, folding up the blanket and draping it over the back of the couch before returning to the kitchen. By the time the blond exited the bathroom looking only marginally more awake and equally miserable, Ignis was lying in wait, though merely with a cup of coffee. Hangover aside, Ignis empathized greatly with the need for a little something to get one going in the morning. After all, contrary to popular belief, he was very much not a morning person, and frankly scarcely even a person at all until after his first cup of coffee.
The blond took a look drink of the warm brew, grimacing slightly at the taste, but drinking without complaint. Ignis merely gathered the last of his things as he waited; he could spare a few minutes, after all, for the boy to brace himself against the morning. And if not, well. It was frankly his own fault for not waking him sooner. But as it would have it, the blond was ready to go quickly enough, in motion even if not appearing particularly alert. Ignis certainly couldn’t hold it against him. Few people were prepared for Uncle Ventus’s egg nog the first time. And possibly the second, for that matter.
The blond settled into the passenger seat of Ignis’s car, scarcely making the effort to buckle up before he curled in on himself, one hand coming up to shield his eyes from the morning sun. Ignis turned the dial to off on his radio before starting the car, pulled as smoothly as he could manage out onto to the road as he directed the vehicle back toward the Argentum’s home. His own first hangover hadn’t been so long ago as to not have some fellow feeling, and it was certainly no trouble for him to not make this anymore unpleasant for the blond than it already had to be.
Soon, he pulled up in front of the blond’s house, but as the boy reached for the door handle, he cleared his throat pointedly, unsurprised by the startled grimace the sound evoked. Ignis reached into the back seat, retrieved and offered the paper bag he’d placed back there earlier. “This is for you.”
“Uhm?” The blond stared blankly for a moment, hands coming up to take it up reflex. “What?”
“To take home.” He cleared his throat, his now empty hand coming to rest awkwardly on the center console. “Uncle Ventus made it up for you.” Because of course he did. “He would be most distressed if you refused it.”
“Oh! Uhm.” The moment stalled. Ignix fixed the blond with a particularly shrewd look that was frequently effective against disagreement. “Thanks?”
Ignis gave a small nod, watching the blond a moment longer before allowing his gaze to shift away. Had his eyes always been that blue? He hadn’t noticed the little flecks of violet before. It was rather lovely, truth be told, but that was neither here nor there. . .
“I. . .” When Ignis turned back, the blond still had his hand on the door, but his attention was diverted out through the windshield, bottom lip pulled between his teeth to lightly gnaw on in apparent nervousness. He waited. A stuttering breath, then the blond seemed to brace himself, shoulders tightening slightly as he pushed the words out. “Sorry I ruined your family dinner.”
“You did no such thing.” The words were immediate, not particularly thought through before they were spoken. The blond attention jerked over, eyes wide and cheeks flushing. Finally, eye contact, even if it was accompanied with such a patently doubtful expression. “I assure you, Uncle Ventus adores having company.” If anything, that was an understatement. “And personally speaking. . . I enjoyed yoru presence as well.” He paused, managing a somewhat rueful smile before adding, “I only wish I’d had the presence of mind to warn you about Uncle Ventus’s eggnog ahead of time.”
The blond laughed – a surprised sound, but there. Much better. “It was good!”
“But a bit strong, mmmm?”
“Well. . . you got a point there.”
“One can hardly blame you, though,” he added thoughtfully. “Uncle Tellus was telling the truth about even His Majesty favouring it.” He hesitated, lips pressing together as he considered the wisdom of what he was about to share, but ultimately, he pushed forward anyway. “Whipped out a thermos of it once in the middle of a council meeting.”
“What?! No way!” Again, laughter filled the vehicle, the blond’s expression brightening with the sound, his hand loosening its death grip on the door handle. After a moment, he grimaced, his hangover no doubt in disagreement with the sound. Ignis grimaced for a different reason, remembering how casually His Majesty had pulled the thermos from the ether, and the holographic tonberry sticker that, though worn, still stuck quite firmly to the thermos. He’d put that sticker there years ago, back when he’d been four feet tall and absolutely obsessed. And that had been the day, after all, he’d found out Uncle Ventus had access to the King’s armiger.
“Oh, yes, it was quite memorable,” he commented lightly. “I believe – “ He cut off mid though as his phone gave a shrill chime, and frowned down at it as he pulled it from his pocket, his attention immediately on the text he’d received. Yes, of course that morning’s budget meeting was being pushed up. Councilor Flavinus always pulled this garbage after the holidays, always did his best to take advantage of people’s inattention and weariness following a celebration. Occasionally, it even worked. Unacceptable. Conversation momentarily forgotten, he typed out a response, confirming he would be there for the earlier time, though six knew now he wouldn’t have time to stop for a fresh coffee. It would be worth it, though, if it meant foiling that insufferable old a*****e. Though he made a point to be perfectly reasonable as a matter of course, he loathed the racist, backwards councilor. As far as he could ascertain, the feeling was quite mutual.
“Apologies.” He tucked the phone back away, his attention turning back to the blond who looked tense and uncomfortable once more. “Duty beckons, I’m afraid. I will see you at His Highness’s later, I presume?”
“Yeah!” the blond agreed, finally opening the passenger side door. His smile looked forced. “See you later.”
He watched the blond go, waiting until he’d closed his front door behind him before pulling away from the curb. He felt ill at ease, but there was no time to dwell. He had work to do, after all.
It was nearly afternoon by the time Ignis actually made it into his office, uncaffeinated and irritated by the sheer pointlessness of the meeting he’d just left. The meeting’s discussion had been rather circular, one side relentlessly pressuring and the other refusing to give in. No progress could be made at present, but that didn’t stop them from arguing about it for two hours. It was exhausting, and the smell of coffee as he opened his office door was like sweet ambrosia to his soul.
Of course, he hadn’t started any coffee himself yet, so his focus zeroed in on the culprit. Noctis. Sitting in his desk chair with a serious expression on his face, waiting like some diabolical villain about to reveal his master plan. All he needed was a cat to stroke as he chortled at his own brilliance. Very dramatic.
“What’s wrong?” If the prince was awake, that meant he hadn’t been waiting long. Which meant the situation could very well be urgent. Ignis lightly closed the door behind him, then poured himself a cup of coffee. He could get a few sips in, at least, while he waited.
The dark-haired prince took a deep breath, began to speak, then his expression crumpled. Six.
“Noctis?” He pulled a box of tissue from his desk, offering it to the younger boy, though he wasn’t quite crying yet. He was close. “What happened?”
“It’s Prompto,” he managed, struggling for a moment to get his emotions under control. The prince was usually so reserved with his feelings, it was no wonder they spilled all over the place whenever he lost control, though these days, usually it was sulkiness he had to contend with. “He won’t just confess and he doesn’t want me to help but if I don’t he’ll just die!” He took a deep breath, his fine features hardening into an expression of determination. “I have to do it anyway. He can’t just. But. I don’t know where to start?”
“Mmmm.” Leaving the tissue box next to the prince, he moved to pull out his planner, flipping through the bulging pages before finding what he was looking for and setting it down, open, in front of the younger boy. “Here’s the number for the specialist that handled my case. Give her a call.”
“Like right now?” The dark-haired boy look surprised, as though he hadn’t come here expecting his advisor to fix this for him.
“Time is of the essence, is it not?”
“Then I’ll just - ?”
“Go ahead.” Ignis settled on the nearby love seat – an indulgence, to be sure, but given that he had, on occasion, overnighted it at the office, one well worth the cost. “I’ll be right here if you need me.”
True to his word, he settled in with some paperwork, half listening as he fumbled through the phone call, answering questions as best as he could. By the time he hung up, Ignis was well and truly focused on the task at hand. It took him a minute or two to realize his office had fallen silent. He looked up to find blue eyes fixed on him, the prince’s expression one of ill ease, despite the fact that things were, presumably, finally moving forward. Rather than ask, he waited. If Noctis had something he wanted to say, he would say it. Pushing him was rarely effective.
“She thought I was calling because you’d relapsed.”
Oh. Well. He supposed that would be a concern, considering he had been considered at high risk for it. Something about the subject of his infatuation being likely to be someone in the workplace. A reasonable assumption, given his schedule. “Not yet,” he commented mildly, gathering up his papers to move back to his desk. The prince would be on his way shortly, no doubt.
“That’s not funny, Specs!”
Ignis glanced back up, startled to see just how angry the prince looked. “Of course, Highness.” Too soon, clearly. It was a sensitive situation, and Noctis was already on edge. “I apologize.” He cleared his throat, suddenly feeling off-balance.
“I wish you’d told me.” He prince was still staring, still angry, but there was also something sad to his expression. Something raw. Ignis couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
“Yes,” he agreed, stilling in the face of that intensity. “Perhaps that would have been better. However. There are no do-overs. We must take the present as it is.”
“I know, Specs. I just. . .” Noctis sighed, frustrated, and rubbed the back of his neck in a familiar motion as he rose. “I really wish you’d told me.”
Ignis frowned. “I know.” He didn’t really know what else to say to that. He couldn’t rightly say he wished the same; after all, he assumed he’d had his reasons, and what else did he really have, if he couldn’t even trust in his own decisions? Perhaps he had made a mistake, but there was nothing for it now.
The prince sighed again, then slumped for the door. “I’ll see you later?”
“As ever,” he agreed mildly, settling behind his desk as he watched the boy leave. He felt. . . bereft. Like he’d lost something immaterial before he’d even known it was an option. And he did not like the feeling at all.
