[ he can feel it even more vividly now, the sheer breadth of albert's reaction to him, his feelings stirring in the profound strength of their bond. how it seems like their connection has been slowly but steadily growing. he leans into his hand without a word, shifting to press a soft kiss to the center of his palm just because he can.
he can feel it, that heartache, the anxiety that is brimming inside of him, and ignis focuses on him as albert's soft, quiet words come forth. he has always known that albert has secrets of his own, dark ones, but ignis hasn't seen fit to pry or to haul it out of him until he's ready.
and here and now, it seems like he is. ]
Of course.
[ he says quietly, looking back at him, his gaze quietly searching. ] I will listen to everything you have to say.
[Relief and worry intermingle on Albert's face, and he strokes that beloved cheek one more time before reaching for Ignis' hand. This hand, gentle and strong in equal measure, may never hold his again. It may never caress his skin or soothe his worries again.
This is a risk. A horrific one. He may lose everything. But better he lose it now, when his heart is already aching, than to lose it when he feels secure and content.]
We should sit. This may take some time, and you may have questions. I'll answer anything you ask.
[ ignis' brows knit at those words, but he takes albert's hand when he reaches out for him, squeezing it to lead him to the couch. he settles in with him, but makes sure to pull albert close to him. ]
Why don't you start with the most pressing thing you wish to tell me about first?
[He follows, sitting close by Ignis, a hand resting on one of his thighs. The synchrony happens as it always does, and the feeling soothes Albert just a little.]
The most pressing thing...
[He thinks for several long moments. Is it... what he has done to wrong the world? What fate awaits his only family? He can't begin to enumerate every last secret. So he'll start with the part some people here seem to know about.
James Moriarty.]
My brothers and I... most notably William and myself, have been acting as vigilantes of sorts for nearly as long as we've known each other. We are, collectively, James Moriarty, the "Lord of Crime" who terrorizes corrupt nobles across Britain.
[He pauses, feeling ill, his face pale and his stomach churning. It's terrible to admit any of this.]
I... am the financier, the face of sorts, and the most highly trained among us. No one knows our identity who is not in our confidence. Not yet, in my time.
[A breath.]
I've killed more men than I dare admit. Blackmailed and otherwise orchestrated the downfall of others. I'm far from a good man.
[ ...well, that definitely isn't what he's expecting.
albert's confession is a startling revelation. what he's truly doing, the depth of his actions and his crimes. vigilantes, terrorising corrupt nobles across the country he loves. ignis remembers just how passionate albert is for the less-fortunate, his heart for equality, that barely concealed dislike for the crown that he serves.
it ties in, but it's no less surprising. he watches the sickened expression on albert's face and realises one thing: this is a man bent on idealism, on the absolutes of humanity, good and bad, with no room for grey.
he's silent for a long moment, calculating his response, the weight of that confession. ]
All these men. Were they all men that were doing harm to others?
[His fingers curl on Ignis' thigh, the tension in his body threatening to make him sick. He can practically taste the bile rising into his throat.]
All of them. They tortured people, murdered them, destroyed innocent lives because they saw them as less than themselves. William always thought he could change the world, and I believed in it. In him. So...
[The first time. He suddenly remembers the first time, something he hasn't thought about since he arrived. God, but Ignis doesn't deserve such a horrible man as himself.
And yet...]
We took revenge, for those who couldn't. Men, women, even children who never deserved to die. We spoke for the voiceless. We never thought what we did was righteous, or justice. But we did it. And... [He takes a deep breath. The words come out slowly, small, hollow.]
I think what my brothers aren't telling me in so many words is... that we were exposed, somehow. And that William died.
[ ignis considers his answer -- to be honest, ignis cannot find anything wrong with what they're doing. that they've become vigilantes means that the system they're in has failed them. no one wakes up and decides that they're going to kill people one day.
no, there's something that runs much deeper here. and worse, that all of these deeds are weighing heavily on him. the fact that albert looks so sick to his stomach, so vulnerable, makes ignis' heart ache. it means he feels guilt for it, it means this is tearing down that goodness inside of him, piece by piece.
ignis is quiet as he looks at him with a new light -- here is a man so attuned to his own morals and principles that he cannot forgive himself for doing what is necessary. ignis, who has witnessed even greater evil and greed, who is part of a kingdom betrayed, sees something different in what albert confesses. he sees the pain, too, the heartache and grief of losing someone in the future, and he frowns as he pulls him into his arms.
he doesn't let him escape, tugging him onto his lap so that he can look into his eyes. ]
What you did was necessary. It seems the system in your home has failed you, and you did what desperate, good men do: you took matters in your own hands because no one else would. Or could.
[ ignis' words are steel, filled with certainty of purpose. but it is also balanced with compassion and empathy, because he understands why it would be wrong, too. systems were created to work, not create vigilantes. he exhales a soft sigh now, understanding his pain, his grief. noctis will die, too, and ignis knows the pain he feels right to his core. ]
[Albert's heart feels wrung out, his chest aches and his stomach wants so badly to betray him... but here is Ignis, beautiful, glorious Ignis, who sees him. Who sees that the only way was their way. It's something Albert couldn't even admit to himself here, something he railed against in secret, in trying to be sure his past never haunted him here.
What they did... was necessary. Some of the people he killed may not have killed others. Some of them were merely rotten to the core, lacking principles and ideals. They were bodies to count, people to be sacrificed in the name of William's new world.
And Albert, after endless hours with his brothers, after the anguish of knowing they couldn't put tragedy to words, after realizing that the end they saw was the only possible end...
Breaks.
He looks to Ignis, examining those eyes for pity, for disdain, and he finds neither. He finds concern, support, belief. The steel in his words and the velvet in his embrace hit Albert with equal force, and all he can do as he curls close on his lover's lap and presses his face to his neck is try to stop the tears from being so abundant.
He wants to scream. He wants to wail and fight and mourn the loss of the first person he ever loved, who is here, who is his still, who holds a sway over him unlike any other. He wants to destroy whatever brought them to light, even if it was inevitable.
He wants to take every ounce of the blame from William and die in his place.
And that... is terrifying suddenly. To love so intensely that he would die for him, to love so intensely that he would live... That's the love he has for William, and for Louis. It isn't always a pure and beautiful thing, but it occupies Albert's heart and mind so fully that he can't actually keep from crumbling when faced with reality. He knows himself. He knows he must've done something terrible and been killed or locked away himself, as he'd long intended.
Now, here, he wants a chance to atone. To forget that he shed the first blood. That he spilled the blood that forged their bond. Burned the house that scarred Louis. Bargained with the man who would save William's soul. That he failed them in every way is so obvious; but what if he doesn't fail them here? What if redemption is real, and the path forward is laid at his feet?
Clinging to the front of Ignis' shirt with two tightly fisted hands, his shoulders shaking with sobs, Albert keeps his face hidden from Ignis.
This man... if Albert was destined for hell, here is the last angel sent to show him mercy.]
[ ignis' arms wind around him. it's clearly too long in the making, too long that albert has to bear this burden and then some. he can feel it, the powerful burn of that intense love, like fire that would scorch him from the inside out. ignis recognises that kind of love and the grief and heartbreak that accompanies it. after all, albert is only human -- and he's clearly reached his limit.
he absorbs albert's moods, the feelings that resonate in their bond so powerfully that he forgets to breathe for a moment, reaching out with his own serenity, to let him know that he's here. he focuses on albert's roiling emotions, feeling them for himself but letting him know, too, that he's not alone as he strokes his hair and presses his lips to the crown of his head.
he lets him break in his arms, the hot burn of tears seeping through the fabric of his shirt, and ignis lets him cry it out. the intensity of albert's emotions is overwhelming, enthralling, but ignis takes it all as he continues to hold his lover, to let him cry it out. his fingers come to curl in his hair, stroking him through his breakdown.
[This is a pain over a decade in the making, a pain that Albert has felt since he realized he was different, not like his wretched family. The pain of being kind in an unkind world, of being gentle with no way to remain such. The first few times he killed were so terrible, and each is seared into his mind. The fact that it got easier, that he became numb, is what he grieves now, too, as he feels the warmth and serene understanding coming from Ignis. Their bond that had dulled over the last few days of Albert's hiding flares to life, passion and grief, acceptance and sorrow.
If he could be by this man's side until the bitter end...
After what feels like forever to Albert, the tears subside and he lifts his head slightly. He wants to say something warm, or something profound, about the oasis that Ignis has become already, but his mind is so clouded and stuck between his own pain and the adoration and support Ignis radiates that all he can do is stare at the damp spot he made on this man's beautiful shirt.]
Oh. Your shirt. I'm so sorry.
[He finds Ignis' eyes easily, those arms still around him, every point where they touch a soothing reminder of the connection they've made. His fingers loosen their grip on the poor shirt and he smooths his fingers over the wrinkles he's caused.
His voice is whisper soft now, on the heels of that fragile apology.]
[ it's almost absurd, how after all this albert would demonstrate such care for his clothes, and it occurs to him that this is truly the man albert is underneath all of that slick charm, his sharp, witty words or the glimpse of the darkness he sees in him. albert is soft and gentle, too kind to be in a world that is anything but. that kindness had manifested in something dark, something fierce that now weighs on albert, and he can't help but squeeze him in turn, closing his eyes briefly.
goodness. the things albert had been made to do because there was no other way forward for him...
he can't help but muster a small smile when he finds him smoothing his fingers over the patch of wet cloth, searing onto his skin. this is demonstrably proof that albert has let him in, that he's showing him that side of himself that ignis knows he rarely shows to others. here he is in all of his vulnerability, fragile and having taken such a bold risk.
did he think that ignis will turn from him? he knows albert must have feared that, he had picked up on it now and then, too subtle for him to be certain before. and yet now...
he can't help a surge of warm affection for him, of understanding even as he digests everything that albert has done, the man that he is. he cups his face to wipe his tears away from those lovely cheeks, and he leans forward to kiss him, stealing whatever words he has away from his lips. to be trusted like this, to have this man mind him despite the pain and grief he feels -- what an incredible, inexplicable man. ]
[To Albert, it is Ignis who is incredible, full of understanding and grace, overflowing with concern and a delicate affection so unlike the other love in Albert's life. This... he has to call it that, now. In his heart, he felt intense longing for this man while they were apart, even in the depths of confusion and sorrow and a passionate reunion. This is a man he wants to show to his family, to let the immovable Moriarty judgement be found in his favor. He wants William to respect this man, and Louis so embrace him. He wants Moran to watch over him. He would make a deal with the devil all over again, but this time he knows he won't have to.
Ignis, he's certain, has many faults and flaws he still isn't aware of, darkness and pain and his own veiled passion. But Albert, rather than fearing its discovery, finds it glorious. Ignis is human. Ignis sees things from a practical perspective. Ignis will not so easily cast him aside for this sin.
Ignis is his, if only a little, and he rejoices in it as they kiss, as he's held and soothed and put gently back together again.
He kisses with slow, burning passion, with apology for half truths and promises to be the man Ignis believes him to be. To follow his ideals to the end. To help others, as is his duty and privilege. To even try to see the shades of gray that Ignis so clearly can.
Hands coming to rest on his lover's shoulders, then the sides of his neck, Albert gently takes and claims in this kiss, sealing a bargain only with himself that should he become worthy of this man's affection, he would give him the world.
Murmured between breaths, slow and steady and true, like the time they danced, like the first time he tasted Ignis' Yorkshire pudding, are words he never thought he'd utter to anyone outside of the Moriarty circle.]
[ perhaps in time, ignis will reveal more of himself to him. he is just as flawed, with his own darkness and secrets, the things albert will have to accept about him. ignis understands albert because he exists in shades of grey, made to do things that his king cannot (and will not) do. but now is not the time for his own secrets, his vulnerabilities and his own fears and anxieties, even if he knows albert has glimpsed them from time to time, accepting whatever little fragment that ignis shows him.
he takes in the great overflow of feelings and emotions, the churning passion and the way albert feels so intensely that it makes him ache, captivates him and stuns him both. how is he to react when he feels him in all his entirety, so genuine and so full of emotion that ignis doesn't quite know what to do with it? he kisses him back, again and again, allowing albert to take and claim, wanting to comfort him as best he knows how.
he thinks of all the time they've spent together in here, the encounters that move him, make him want more, so much so that parting is sweet sorrow, and his eyes widen when the kiss ends and he murmurs soft, honest words. ignis believes them because it's all he can feel from albert, his heart pounding in his chest.
i love you.
what small, powerful words, bigger than the space they occupy, the intent behind them. he presses his forehead to his, trying to wrap his mind around the truth of them. ]
[This place will steal everything from everyone in time, and Albert has never been the sort to wait for things he wants. He is still too passionately charging through this damnable place, this precious place, but he's no fool.
He tips his head so their noses brush ever so briefly, then shifts so it's just their foreheads again. Raising a hand, he places his index finger over Ignis' lips to silence him, his own eyes sliding closed.
This is his moment, his honesty, and he doesn't need anything in return. He never has, with anyone. He never demanded anything from William but the revolution he always wanted. He asked nothing of Louis but for his health and happiness.
So too does he feel for this man, selfishly wishing him happiness and peace, large kitchens and good wine and abundant opportunties. His love has never been offered out of vanity, but out of passion and respect, born of the same ideals that cause his pain.
With that, he invites Ignis in. Into the very blackest depths of his charred soul. No one could love that, but what love he can wring out of it, he gives to those who earn it.
His finger drops away from Ignis' lips, and he strokes his cheek ever so gently, emotionally spent and having given all he could, for now.]
[ surely, he must feel it -- the sheer depth of passion that ignis has for albert, the ferocity of the feelings that he has for him. surely, he must know, too, that ignis has fallen in love with him. but he is silenced, and perhaps for good reason; this isn't the place that ignis wants albert to remember that he says it for the first time.
this isn't the moment, too, not when there is an easy suspicion that he's only saying it back just because. no, this is far more important than that -- he doesn't want the first time albert hears those words to be tied to a memory of grief and heartache and pain.
and so he keeps quiet for now, seeking him out and taking his invite with all his heart. they both know, too, that fairytales are for children -- there is no such thing as a happy ending or a lasting happiness. they all take what they can get, and they roll with the punches until they don't. he can feel albert's feelings for him, how albert gives and gives and gives until there's nothing left, and he stills the kiss, moving to look at him squarely in the eyes. ]
Let me take care of you tonight.
[ he says softly. it's time for him to stop giving, to be loved and sheltered and treasured. ]
Lose yourself in me, and think about nothing else. You're the only one that matters right now.
[It he is to hear it, he wants to hear it when he is at his best, something to marveled at and proud of and beloved, the way Ignis is right now. He adored this man from the beginning for so many reasons, but now love has taken anchor and he's completly prepared to devote himself.
He closes his eyes and simply absorbs the love and care he's given, the warmth of their connection soothing.]
I would love nothing more than to be put back together by you. My dearest Ignis.
[ he smiles then, nuzzling into him before he gently tugs on the scarf albert wears to loosen and free him from it -- how strange, he's never been one for them.
it has been quite the session, and goodness knows albert needs a break. ]
Be careful what you wish for. The last time this happened, you barely slept the entire night.
[Ah, the scarf. Albert knows Ignis will figure things out sooner or later, so he doesn't protest its removal. Beneath are marks and bruises large and small, some fresher than others, all of... obvious origin. There will be other bruises and marks elsewhere. He'll see them.
All he can do is smile sadly and hope he isn't judged too terribly for it. If Ignis asks, he'll answer. He said he would.
He's gone from bouts of barely sleeping to excessive sleeping over the past few days, too. He hopes to God that Ignis really will put him back together.
Reaching for Ignis' hand, he raises it to his lips, pressing kisses to his fingertips. It is perhaps more adoring than sensual, but he closes his eyes and simply takes Ignis in, their shared warmth his solace.]
[ those are lovebites, possessive marks, and he's pretty sure those are outlines of fingers, which tells him a lot. but they are fresh, and it doesn't take much for him to try and put it together. the most obvious scenario is taboo, but ignis can't shake it off, not when he can feel albert's emotions with such clarity. ]
These marks... who made them?
[ ignis is not a jealous man, not really, but they are too purposeful to be careless -- he recognises the intent of them in a heartbeat, to mark and claim. he doesn't draw his hand away from those soft lips; in fact, he curls his fingers around his, openly curious. clearly, albert likes it rough, too. very rough. ]
[The most obvious scenario is the correct one, and Albert does have the presence of mind to be slightly shamefaced at his response. He knows it's taboo, of course. He knows better than anyone.]
...William, primarily.
[The rest of the story becomes important now, the secrets Albert should take to his grave, but that Ignis' eyes are going to ask.]
They're... not really my brothers. Not by birth. They're adopted. And William isn't his real name.
[He looks down, anywhere but at Ignis.]
I didn't tell you everything. I wasn't sure how. If I tell you how we came to be brothers, you may look at me less kindly.
[ technically not quite what it's supposed to be, then. ignis blinks, reaching out to trace light fingers over the marks, quietly fascinated. he is no stranger to this kind of play, and he lightly curls his hand over the back of his neck. there is more that comes out, even heavier things, it seems, and ignis is quiet for a moment, contemplating him. ]
Are you ready to tell me this tonight, or should it be something for another day?
[The honest truth, as he tips his head to the side and lets Ignis explore.]
I want so badly for you to break me. Claim me. Everything I've been too good to ask for. I need to be yours. I can't... I can't shake that need. The entire time I was with my brothers I felt you. I should have come here.
[He sounds a bit hollow again, saying that.]
But if you do let me in without knowing, I'll fear you'll regret being with me at all. Then again, if I do tell you, maybe I can begin to atone somehow. It is unforgivable, I know, all of it. We were the devils ourselves, and I began it all.
[He looks at Ignis with fear and more than a touch of sadness.]
[ ignis is silent for a long moment, considering him with care. it's clear what albert needs, what he says with all honesty that stirs up something primal in ignis, something very much like the darker side of desire.
his fingers press lightly over the more egregious, darker marks, reading the intent behind all of it -- that albert belongs to another, first and foremost. and yet. yet he comes, and yearns to be his.
he leans forward to press a soft kiss to a particularly vivid bruise, right over the pulse point of his throat. there will be no peace until albert confesses, and something tells him that it's something he's kept buried from everyone for a long, long time.
he looks back at him steadily, reading the fear and sadness in those lovely green eyes, feeling the aching tremble of it through their bond. ]
Courage, my dear Albert.
[ he says softly. it is only in shedding the last vestiges of his defenses that ignis can truly break and claim him. and albert needs this, more than anyone else he knows. ]
[Albert lets the marks be explored, sins that they are, one layered atop another and atop another still. He'll never escape them, and these are sins he'll go back to willingly and with love. William is, after all, his life.
How does he explain this? The pain borne from good intentions? Knowing the path led where it did? He hesitates... but looks deep into Ignis' eyes.]
Our first victims--my first--were my mother and younger brother, William.
[Somehow just voicing the unspeakable takes a weight off Albert's shoulders that he had no idea was so heavy. How can Ignis draw this out of him after over a decade? How can he make him want to be whole again?]
...When I was a child, I did work at an orphanage. I read to the children there, visited them constantly. Two new children arrived, and I... I fell in a deep fascination with his ideals. I would've called it love then. These two children were adopted into the Moriarty family at my behest, but my family loathed them. They were horrific to them, though they paid for a life saving surgery for Louis, they worked him to the bone, and abused the other constantly.
[He takes a deep breath, quelling the years-old rage he still feels. Death was too good for them.]
I asked if murder was an acceptable route to an ideal world, one where no noble could trample another commoner again. I killed them with my own hands, ultimately, and we burned the house down... killing my father as well and the household servants. William took my younger brother's name and identity. We trained as teenagers to fight, to survive and to reach those ideals.
[He smiles, sad and sincere.]
Everything I've done has been for William: my military service, my work with MI6, everything I've done here as well. I love him. I always have. And Louis... I wanted to protect him as much as William did. But somehow... he has my position now in his time, and I am no longer in the picture. I don't know how I feel about any of it.
ignis is silent throughout, eyes widening in surprise when he finally drops the bomb: that he murdered his family for it. that the home he had come from had necessitated such a terrible, terrible thing. he is somber, mouth set in a grim line as the story continues. for a kind, gentle soul like albert, he has done monstrous things. in between them, the air is heavy with the awful truth, and ignis doesn't do anything to dispel it.
he absorbs everything, the abuse toward the young children, the seething hypocrisy that he's certain albert chafed at and hated more than anything else. what had gone through his head as he killed his family, he wonders? is murder truly an acceptable route to an ideal world? who is ignis to say whether it is or isn't? noctis will pave the way to the world of light with his death. all the sacrifices, the deaths that have happened on their watch, all of it had been to ensure that noctis fulfilled his purpose.
and so here, right now... something in his chest tightens as he studies him. he reaches out silently now, touching his cheek somberly. it's clear as day, his love for his adopted brothers, that selfless, giving spirit that had compelled him to do such terrible things. now, everything makes more sense, all of it coming together to paint a tragedy, with albert in the middle of it all.
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no subject
he can feel it, that heartache, the anxiety that is brimming inside of him, and ignis focuses on him as albert's soft, quiet words come forth. he has always known that albert has secrets of his own, dark ones, but ignis hasn't seen fit to pry or to haul it out of him until he's ready.
and here and now, it seems like he is. ]
Of course.
[ he says quietly, looking back at him, his gaze quietly searching. ] I will listen to everything you have to say.
no subject
This is a risk. A horrific one. He may lose everything. But better he lose it now, when his heart is already aching, than to lose it when he feels secure and content.]
We should sit. This may take some time, and you may have questions. I'll answer anything you ask.
no subject
Why don't you start with the most pressing thing you wish to tell me about first?
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The most pressing thing...
[He thinks for several long moments. Is it... what he has done to wrong the world? What fate awaits his only family? He can't begin to enumerate every last secret. So he'll start with the part some people here seem to know about.
James Moriarty.]
My brothers and I... most notably William and myself, have been acting as vigilantes of sorts for nearly as long as we've known each other. We are, collectively, James Moriarty, the "Lord of Crime" who terrorizes corrupt nobles across Britain.
[He pauses, feeling ill, his face pale and his stomach churning. It's terrible to admit any of this.]
I... am the financier, the face of sorts, and the most highly trained among us. No one knows our identity who is not in our confidence. Not yet, in my time.
[A breath.]
I've killed more men than I dare admit. Blackmailed and otherwise orchestrated the downfall of others. I'm far from a good man.
no subject
albert's confession is a startling revelation. what he's truly doing, the depth of his actions and his crimes. vigilantes, terrorising corrupt nobles across the country he loves. ignis remembers just how passionate albert is for the less-fortunate, his heart for equality, that barely concealed dislike for the crown that he serves.
it ties in, but it's no less surprising. he watches the sickened expression on albert's face and realises one thing: this is a man bent on idealism, on the absolutes of humanity, good and bad, with no room for grey.
he's silent for a long moment, calculating his response, the weight of that confession. ]
All these men. Were they all men that were doing harm to others?
no subject
All of them. They tortured people, murdered them, destroyed innocent lives because they saw them as less than themselves. William always thought he could change the world, and I believed in it. In him. So...
[The first time. He suddenly remembers the first time, something he hasn't thought about since he arrived. God, but Ignis doesn't deserve such a horrible man as himself.
And yet...]
We took revenge, for those who couldn't. Men, women, even children who never deserved to die. We spoke for the voiceless. We never thought what we did was righteous, or justice. But we did it. And... [He takes a deep breath. The words come out slowly, small, hollow.]
I think what my brothers aren't telling me in so many words is... that we were exposed, somehow. And that William died.
no subject
no, there's something that runs much deeper here. and worse, that all of these deeds are weighing heavily on him. the fact that albert looks so sick to his stomach, so vulnerable, makes ignis' heart ache. it means he feels guilt for it, it means this is tearing down that goodness inside of him, piece by piece.
ignis is quiet as he looks at him with a new light -- here is a man so attuned to his own morals and principles that he cannot forgive himself for doing what is necessary. ignis, who has witnessed even greater evil and greed, who is part of a kingdom betrayed, sees something different in what albert confesses. he sees the pain, too, the heartache and grief of losing someone in the future, and he frowns as he pulls him into his arms.
he doesn't let him escape, tugging him onto his lap so that he can look into his eyes. ]
What you did was necessary. It seems the system in your home has failed you, and you did what desperate, good men do: you took matters in your own hands because no one else would. Or could.
[ ignis' words are steel, filled with certainty of purpose. but it is also balanced with compassion and empathy, because he understands why it would be wrong, too. systems were created to work, not create vigilantes. he exhales a soft sigh now, understanding his pain, his grief. noctis will die, too, and ignis knows the pain he feels right to his core. ]
I'm so very sorry, my darling.
no subject
What they did... was necessary. Some of the people he killed may not have killed others. Some of them were merely rotten to the core, lacking principles and ideals. They were bodies to count, people to be sacrificed in the name of William's new world.
And Albert, after endless hours with his brothers, after the anguish of knowing they couldn't put tragedy to words, after realizing that the end they saw was the only possible end...
Breaks.
He looks to Ignis, examining those eyes for pity, for disdain, and he finds neither. He finds concern, support, belief. The steel in his words and the velvet in his embrace hit Albert with equal force, and all he can do as he curls close on his lover's lap and presses his face to his neck is try to stop the tears from being so abundant.
He wants to scream. He wants to wail and fight and mourn the loss of the first person he ever loved, who is here, who is his still, who holds a sway over him unlike any other. He wants to destroy whatever brought them to light, even if it was inevitable.
He wants to take every ounce of the blame from William and die in his place.
And that... is terrifying suddenly. To love so intensely that he would die for him, to love so intensely that he would live... That's the love he has for William, and for Louis. It isn't always a pure and beautiful thing, but it occupies Albert's heart and mind so fully that he can't actually keep from crumbling when faced with reality. He knows himself. He knows he must've done something terrible and been killed or locked away himself, as he'd long intended.
Now, here, he wants a chance to atone. To forget that he shed the first blood. That he spilled the blood that forged their bond. Burned the house that scarred Louis. Bargained with the man who would save William's soul. That he failed them in every way is so obvious; but what if he doesn't fail them here? What if redemption is real, and the path forward is laid at his feet?
Clinging to the front of Ignis' shirt with two tightly fisted hands, his shoulders shaking with sobs, Albert keeps his face hidden from Ignis.
This man... if Albert was destined for hell, here is the last angel sent to show him mercy.]
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he absorbs albert's moods, the feelings that resonate in their bond so powerfully that he forgets to breathe for a moment, reaching out with his own serenity, to let him know that he's here. he focuses on albert's roiling emotions, feeling them for himself but letting him know, too, that he's not alone as he strokes his hair and presses his lips to the crown of his head.
he lets him break in his arms, the hot burn of tears seeping through the fabric of his shirt, and ignis lets him cry it out. the intensity of albert's emotions is overwhelming, enthralling, but ignis takes it all as he continues to hold his lover, to let him cry it out. his fingers come to curl in his hair, stroking him through his breakdown.
he's here. he's here for all of him. ]
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If he could be by this man's side until the bitter end...
After what feels like forever to Albert, the tears subside and he lifts his head slightly. He wants to say something warm, or something profound, about the oasis that Ignis has become already, but his mind is so clouded and stuck between his own pain and the adoration and support Ignis radiates that all he can do is stare at the damp spot he made on this man's beautiful shirt.]
Oh. Your shirt. I'm so sorry.
[He finds Ignis' eyes easily, those arms still around him, every point where they touch a soothing reminder of the connection they've made. His fingers loosen their grip on the poor shirt and he smooths his fingers over the wrinkles he's caused.
His voice is whisper soft now, on the heels of that fragile apology.]
Ignis. My darling, dearest Ignis. I...
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goodness. the things albert had been made to do because there was no other way forward for him...
he can't help but muster a small smile when he finds him smoothing his fingers over the patch of wet cloth, searing onto his skin. this is demonstrably proof that albert has let him in, that he's showing him that side of himself that ignis knows he rarely shows to others. here he is in all of his vulnerability, fragile and having taken such a bold risk.
did he think that ignis will turn from him? he knows albert must have feared that, he had picked up on it now and then, too subtle for him to be certain before. and yet now...
he can't help a surge of warm affection for him, of understanding even as he digests everything that albert has done, the man that he is. he cups his face to wipe his tears away from those lovely cheeks, and he leans forward to kiss him, stealing whatever words he has away from his lips. to be trusted like this, to have this man mind him despite the pain and grief he feels -- what an incredible, inexplicable man. ]
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Ignis, he's certain, has many faults and flaws he still isn't aware of, darkness and pain and his own veiled passion. But Albert, rather than fearing its discovery, finds it glorious. Ignis is human. Ignis sees things from a practical perspective. Ignis will not so easily cast him aside for this sin.
Ignis is his, if only a little, and he rejoices in it as they kiss, as he's held and soothed and put gently back together again.
He kisses with slow, burning passion, with apology for half truths and promises to be the man Ignis believes him to be. To follow his ideals to the end. To help others, as is his duty and privilege. To even try to see the shades of gray that Ignis so clearly can.
Hands coming to rest on his lover's shoulders, then the sides of his neck, Albert gently takes and claims in this kiss, sealing a bargain only with himself that should he become worthy of this man's affection, he would give him the world.
Murmured between breaths, slow and steady and true, like the time they danced, like the first time he tasted Ignis' Yorkshire pudding, are words he never thought he'd utter to anyone outside of the Moriarty circle.]
...I love you. Truly.
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he takes in the great overflow of feelings and emotions, the churning passion and the way albert feels so intensely that it makes him ache, captivates him and stuns him both. how is he to react when he feels him in all his entirety, so genuine and so full of emotion that ignis doesn't quite know what to do with it? he kisses him back, again and again, allowing albert to take and claim, wanting to comfort him as best he knows how.
he thinks of all the time they've spent together in here, the encounters that move him, make him want more, so much so that parting is sweet sorrow, and his eyes widen when the kiss ends and he murmurs soft, honest words. ignis believes them because it's all he can feel from albert, his heart pounding in his chest.
i love you.
what small, powerful words, bigger than the space they occupy, the intent behind them. he presses his forehead to his, trying to wrap his mind around the truth of them. ]
Albert --
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He tips his head so their noses brush ever so briefly, then shifts so it's just their foreheads again. Raising a hand, he places his index finger over Ignis' lips to silence him, his own eyes sliding closed.
This is his moment, his honesty, and he doesn't need anything in return. He never has, with anyone. He never demanded anything from William but the revolution he always wanted. He asked nothing of Louis but for his health and happiness.
So too does he feel for this man, selfishly wishing him happiness and peace, large kitchens and good wine and abundant opportunties. His love has never been offered out of vanity, but out of passion and respect, born of the same ideals that cause his pain.
With that, he invites Ignis in. Into the very blackest depths of his charred soul. No one could love that, but what love he can wring out of it, he gives to those who earn it.
His finger drops away from Ignis' lips, and he strokes his cheek ever so gently, emotionally spent and having given all he could, for now.]
You're remarkable. Never stop.
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this isn't the moment, too, not when there is an easy suspicion that he's only saying it back just because. no, this is far more important than that -- he doesn't want the first time albert hears those words to be tied to a memory of grief and heartache and pain.
and so he keeps quiet for now, seeking him out and taking his invite with all his heart. they both know, too, that fairytales are for children -- there is no such thing as a happy ending or a lasting happiness. they all take what they can get, and they roll with the punches until they don't. he can feel albert's feelings for him, how albert gives and gives and gives until there's nothing left, and he stills the kiss, moving to look at him squarely in the eyes. ]
Let me take care of you tonight.
[ he says softly. it's time for him to stop giving, to be loved and sheltered and treasured. ]
Lose yourself in me, and think about nothing else. You're the only one that matters right now.
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He closes his eyes and simply absorbs the love and care he's given, the warmth of their connection soothing.]
I would love nothing more than to be put back together by you. My dearest Ignis.
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it has been quite the session, and goodness knows albert needs a break. ]
Be careful what you wish for. The last time this happened, you barely slept the entire night.
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All he can do is smile sadly and hope he isn't judged too terribly for it. If Ignis asks, he'll answer. He said he would.
He's gone from bouts of barely sleeping to excessive sleeping over the past few days, too. He hopes to God that Ignis really will put him back together.
Reaching for Ignis' hand, he raises it to his lips, pressing kisses to his fingertips. It is perhaps more adoring than sensual, but he closes his eyes and simply takes Ignis in, their shared warmth his solace.]
I don't mind that happening again.
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These marks... who made them?
[ ignis is not a jealous man, not really, but they are too purposeful to be careless -- he recognises the intent of them in a heartbeat, to mark and claim. he doesn't draw his hand away from those soft lips; in fact, he curls his fingers around his, openly curious. clearly, albert likes it rough, too. very rough. ]
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...William, primarily.
[The rest of the story becomes important now, the secrets Albert should take to his grave, but that Ignis' eyes are going to ask.]
They're... not really my brothers. Not by birth. They're adopted. And William isn't his real name.
[He looks down, anywhere but at Ignis.]
I didn't tell you everything. I wasn't sure how. If I tell you how we came to be brothers, you may look at me less kindly.
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[ technically not quite what it's supposed to be, then. ignis blinks, reaching out to trace light fingers over the marks, quietly fascinated. he is no stranger to this kind of play, and he lightly curls his hand over the back of his neck. there is more that comes out, even heavier things, it seems, and ignis is quiet for a moment, contemplating him. ]
Are you ready to tell me this tonight, or should it be something for another day?
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[The honest truth, as he tips his head to the side and lets Ignis explore.]
I want so badly for you to break me. Claim me. Everything I've been too good to ask for. I need to be yours. I can't... I can't shake that need. The entire time I was with my brothers I felt you. I should have come here.
[He sounds a bit hollow again, saying that.]
But if you do let me in without knowing, I'll fear you'll regret being with me at all. Then again, if I do tell you, maybe I can begin to atone somehow. It is unforgivable, I know, all of it. We were the devils ourselves, and I began it all.
[He looks at Ignis with fear and more than a touch of sadness.]
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his fingers press lightly over the more egregious, darker marks, reading the intent behind all of it -- that albert belongs to another, first and foremost. and yet. yet he comes, and yearns to be his.
he leans forward to press a soft kiss to a particularly vivid bruise, right over the pulse point of his throat. there will be no peace until albert confesses, and something tells him that it's something he's kept buried from everyone for a long, long time.
he looks back at him steadily, reading the fear and sadness in those lovely green eyes, feeling the aching tremble of it through their bond. ]
Courage, my dear Albert.
[ he says softly. it is only in shedding the last vestiges of his defenses that ignis can truly break and claim him. and albert needs this, more than anyone else he knows. ]
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How does he explain this? The pain borne from good intentions? Knowing the path led where it did? He hesitates... but looks deep into Ignis' eyes.]
Our first victims--my first--were my mother and younger brother, William.
[Somehow just voicing the unspeakable takes a weight off Albert's shoulders that he had no idea was so heavy. How can Ignis draw this out of him after over a decade? How can he make him want to be whole again?]
...When I was a child, I did work at an orphanage. I read to the children there, visited them constantly. Two new children arrived, and I... I fell in a deep fascination with his ideals. I would've called it love then. These two children were adopted into the Moriarty family at my behest, but my family loathed them. They were horrific to them, though they paid for a life saving surgery for Louis, they worked him to the bone, and abused the other constantly.
[He takes a deep breath, quelling the years-old rage he still feels. Death was too good for them.]
I asked if murder was an acceptable route to an ideal world, one where no noble could trample another commoner again. I killed them with my own hands, ultimately, and we burned the house down... killing my father as well and the household servants. William took my younger brother's name and identity. We trained as teenagers to fight, to survive and to reach those ideals.
[He smiles, sad and sincere.]
Everything I've done has been for William: my military service, my work with MI6, everything I've done here as well. I love him. I always have. And Louis... I wanted to protect him as much as William did. But somehow... he has my position now in his time, and I am no longer in the picture. I don't know how I feel about any of it.
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ignis is silent throughout, eyes widening in surprise when he finally drops the bomb: that he murdered his family for it. that the home he had come from had necessitated such a terrible, terrible thing. he is somber, mouth set in a grim line as the story continues. for a kind, gentle soul like albert, he has done monstrous things. in between them, the air is heavy with the awful truth, and ignis doesn't do anything to dispel it.
he absorbs everything, the abuse toward the young children, the seething hypocrisy that he's certain albert chafed at and hated more than anything else. what had gone through his head as he killed his family, he wonders? is murder truly an acceptable route to an ideal world? who is ignis to say whether it is or isn't? noctis will pave the way to the world of light with his death. all the sacrifices, the deaths that have happened on their watch, all of it had been to ensure that noctis fulfilled his purpose.
and so here, right now... something in his chest tightens as he studies him. he reaches out silently now, touching his cheek somberly. it's clear as day, his love for his adopted brothers, that selfless, giving spirit that had compelled him to do such terrible things. now, everything makes more sense, all of it coming together to paint a tragedy, with albert in the middle of it all.
what can he say to that? ]
...Do you regret any of it?
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