[ It's wrong - everything is wrong in a way he can't describe, can't articulate into any sort of words. Ardyn's presence in his head is dimmed faintly, burned away by Noctis' magic, leaving the briefest moment of clarity where he stares at the other man in disbelief. He can't remember what's happened, can't figure out where everything went wrong, why they're here, but Noctis closes the distance, warm and solid and hugs him so fiercely that he doesn't know what to do.
Do you remember Noctis asks, and Ignis tries, Six, he tries, but the moment slips away each time he tries to reach for it, muddied and fuzzy around the edges.
( it was colder than he expected, Noctis wearing cutoffs and shorter sleeves than Ignis would have liked, but he shrugs off his jacket and wraps it around his prince's shoulders, opening his mouth to say something in return and kill him kill him kill him-- )
It's deafening, so strong and fierce that Ignis can't hold back the choked noise at it, his head aching as Ardyn surges back and swallows all of it up in a rush. He'd almost failed -- almost been tricked by the false king. Snarling, Ignis gropes for his daggers again and strikes up, tries to sink them into the soft flesh of Noctis' belly while he's this close and fails, shuddering, jerking to the side at the last minute.
A shame. Some things are just done better by yourself, I suppose.
He's failed; Ardyn's displeasure radiates through him, a physical thing, so sharp that it makes his teeth ache and he makes a terrible, pained noise through clenched teeth, holding his head. The daggers fall, the sound of them hitting the ground suddenly deafening and then -- nothing. Ignis is aware one moment: the next, collapsed on the ground. ]
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Do you remember Noctis asks, and Ignis tries, Six, he tries, but the moment slips away each time he tries to reach for it, muddied and fuzzy around the edges.
It's deafening, so strong and fierce that Ignis can't hold back the choked noise at it, his head aching as Ardyn surges back and swallows all of it up in a rush. He'd almost failed -- almost been tricked by the false king. Snarling, Ignis gropes for his daggers again and strikes up, tries to sink them into the soft flesh of Noctis' belly while he's this close and fails, shuddering, jerking to the side at the last minute.
A shame. Some things are just done better by yourself, I suppose.
He's failed; Ardyn's displeasure radiates through him, a physical thing, so sharp that it makes his teeth ache and he makes a terrible, pained noise through clenched teeth, holding his head. The daggers fall, the sound of them hitting the ground suddenly deafening and then -- nothing. Ignis is aware one moment: the next, collapsed on the ground. ]