#final fantasy fandom

Propaganda for the mic skills:

The man only ever talks about how he wants to fight you.

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“Even after all you’ve been through, you still have the gentlest soul. I admire that about you.”

@hakongin Here ya go! Hope you like!

Y/N rubbed their eyes, trying to blink away the last remnants of sleep. The fresh coffee from the pot at their booth did little to wake them, but the scent was pleasant. It certainly beat the earthy musk of Duscae—the thick, musty smell that clung to everything just before the bridge to Lestallum. They couldn’t wait to leave the area, to escape the humidity and the endless rain. It had been pouring for three days straight, and sharing a tent with four men in that weather wasn’t an experience they ever expected. Still, Y/N was grateful for the hospitality.

As their mind began to drift, they felt a hand brush theirs from across the table. Y/N looked up to find Ignis, his hair flattened on one side from sleep. He smiled, stifling a yawn that made Y/N let out a tired giggle.

“I had a feeling you’d be the first one up,” Ignis remarked, glancing around the restaurant. It was quiet—just the owner behind the gas station counter and a teenager clicking away at an arcade game in the corner.

“The boys still sleeping?” Y/N asked.

“Deeply, I’m afraid,” Ignis replied with a huff, releasing Y/N’s hand as he sank into the booth across from them. He didn’t notice the faint blush on their cheeks. “I didn’t take you for a coffee drinker.”

“It’s not my usual, but desperate times,” Y/N joked, gesturing for Ignis to grab a spare cup. He did, and Y/N poured coffee for both of them. After a pinch of sugar and a splash of cream—courtesy of the establishment—they drank in friendly silence.

“How are you faring after the other night?” Ignis asked at last, breaking the quiet. He saw Y/N’s frown and immediately backpedaled. “I’m sorry, that may have been impolite to ask—”

“No, it’s okay.” Y/N gave a reassuring nod, briefly patting his hand before pulling back. They smiled gently, though Ignis still wore a faintly guilty expression. “I’m a little frazzled, but I’ll be fine. Not my first time getting manhandled by Niffs, and probably not the last.”

“Still, their decorum was inexcusable,” Ignis said, his voice tight with quiet anger. He exhaled slowly. “It hurts to hear you say you’re used to such treatment. I can only imagine the other times.”

“That’s…rather sweet of you,” Y/N murmured, offering a half-smile. Of all the boys, Ignis was the easiest to talk to about this—the growing aggression of the empire, the way the Niflheim soldiers brutalized anyone who looked suspicious. Y/N winced, shifting in their seat from a lingering bruise, and Ignis immediately straightened, alarm flashing in his eyes.

“Is your wound alright?”

“Yeah. Just slept on it wrong, I think.” Y/N swallowed.

“I’ll be sure to have it looked at before we return to camp,” he said, tapping his cup with reluctant fingers. He hesitated, then met their gaze. “Are you sure you don’t want Gladio and Noct to go back and finish the job? I’m sure they’d be willing.”

“No,” Y/N said firmly. “What happened sucked, but… I don’t want them fighting my battles every time. And honestly? I don’t even blame the Niffs. It’s war. It’s just crap that comes with the turf. Things are already bad enough. Why add more suffering?”

Ignis nodded slowly, then, after a beat, said: “Even after all you’ve been through, you still have the gentlest soul. I admire that about you.”

Y/N blinked, surprised. “Really?”

“I swear by the Six,” he said, earnest as ever. “And…I’m glad you’re here. With me—I mean, with us. The boys and I. It’s…nice, having a quiet moment like this. I just wish we’d met under better circumstances.”

“For the record,” Y/N said softly, “I have no regrets.”

They both knew the peace wouldn’t last, but in that moment, with warm mugs in hand and soft smiles exchanged, it didn’t have to. Something real was taking shape.