#okay bb

❤❤❤

I AM QUAKING IN MY BED RIGHT NOW.

             𝐇𝐄  𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐒  𝐎𝐍  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐄𝐍𝐃  𝐎𝐅  𝐀  𝐆𝐀𝐒𝐏,   one hand 𝙘𝙡𝙪𝙩𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 desperately at the side of his head, fingers pulling light brown hair taught. the panic  𝘧𝘪𝘻𝘻𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘰𝘱𝘴  harshly through his bones, ice cold and dreadful. ignis’ dream 𝗱𝗼𝗲𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗵𝗶𝗺, not even as he wakes  -  the agony stays fresh, flames behind his eyes as his vision   𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚖   in a blur. for only a moment, he gives in to the feeling of helplessness, hands scrambling about in the darkness to find something solid to 𝐭𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 himself to, lest he fall into the nothingness that had encompassed his sight. he finds purchase on what feels like skin, a gangly forearm in his hold. still, there is   𝘯𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸   who he’s disturbed until prompto’s voice reaches out. he’s quiet, hushed, which tells ignis no one else has awoken. he’s thankful for that, at least.   𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙝𝙞𝙢 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙬𝙖𝙮, 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧.   as he fights off his fright, he doesn’t move, back pin-straight and hand still holding tight to prompto, steadying himself. once he finds a strand of  𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚢,  guilt & shame creep in, and he lets up on his grip. when his vision had not returned, initially, ignis had been prepared to step aside, and take leave from their mission.  𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗.  and yet, they did not let him go. the shame of burdening them lays heavy in his ribs.         ‘   ah  -  𝘮𝘺 𝘢𝘱𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘪𝘦𝘴, prompto.   ‘