1 - 20 of 102 Works by gooseberry
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“It was a training accident, just something stupid. I don’t know, they were fooling around, and then Ignis—” Gladio leaves the rest unsaid, and it raises more questions than it really answered, but there’s one question that rushes up and out of Prompto’s mouth faster than the rest, that feels like the lynchpin to finally understanding Noct and Ignis.
“Was Noct there?”
“Kid,” Gladio says, his leg jostling and his face gone grim again, “he was the only one there.”
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It takes about four months for Prompto and Ignis to really become friends; it’s another three months before Prompto starts to actually get him.
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He imagines it sometimes: the queen flipping through a portfolio, looking at the headshots of children from across Lucis; reading the carefully compiled family histories and political ties; picking out her own favorites from the candidate pool, lifting their names to the top. He imagines that she smiled when she saw his dossier, when she saw that they’d been born in the same region. He imagines that, if she’d lived, the queen would have taken an interest in him; she might have written letters to him, might have given him an allowance; she might have said, This one. I want this one for my son.
The queen died, though, so Ignis will never know what she thought of him—or if she thought of him at all.
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An Ignis-centric pre-game fic, in which Ignis is one of several children who are candidates for the position of advisor to the prince; it's basically Ignis and Noctis's childhood, and how Ignis was raised to be a tool for Noctis.
As always, there's a lot of hurt and not much comfort. Also politics, class and power issues, child neglect and codependence, etc. And ghosts! And dead parents! And abandoned children! And more Ignis Whump than you can shake a stick at!
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“They found Scientia?” she asks. “He’s alive?”
“Somehow,” Ravus says grimly. He doesn’t offer much more than fragments—that the Crystal is found, that Scientia is lingering on, that Noctis has asked for her.
“I’ll go,” she says. “Of course I’ll go.”
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Lunafreya and Ignis heal post-Episode Ignis V2.
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“Right,” Noct says as the alarm on her phone chimes. She looks down at the bowl in front of her, and three pairs of eyes look back up at her. One of them—she’s not sure which—blinks, first the right eye, then the left. To see it up close, the way the entire eye retracts down into the skull, makes Noct’s stomach give a squeamish roll.
“Right,” Noct says again, since her friends—her frogs—aren’t saying anything. “I guess, uh, it’s not wearing off?”
One of the frogs slides back into the water with a splash, and the other two begin to squirm, clambering over each other and over the sunken and probably sulking frog at the bottom of the bowl. Their feet—paws? feet? must be feet—are gripping the sides of the bowl, their long toes curling over the rim, the round, sticky pads at the ends of their toes clinging and pulling away from the bowl with sucking sounds.
“Shit,” she whispers, because it’s hitting home in an entirely new way, like the tiny pad at the end of each toe is another suckerpunch to her gut, “we are so fucked.”
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In which a status effect goes awry, the others become frogs, and Noct has to find a way to fix her friends.
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Ignis closes the webpage, then pushes the laptop away. “The king,” she says apologetically, “agreed that you should be told.”
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Various short fics about fem!Noct's unhappy relationship with the paparazzi and an overly-voyeuristic public.
Series
- Part 5 of Listen to the Never
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“He knew,” she snarls. “He knew what he was doing, he knew the whole time, and he just—he just smiled and he sent me away, and he never said—why wouldn’t he have said—”
“I imagine,” Ignis says with care, “that he did what he thought was best—”
“Best? How could this—” Noct’s voice breaks, and the next breath she draws in sounds like a sob. “I don’t know how this could be the best. He was supposed to— I was going to come home.”
Series
- Part 10 of Listen to the Never
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“Okay,” Prompto says. “So hear me out.”
“What.” Gladio sounds unamused and uninterested, but he’s sitting down and he’s mostly listening. He’s at least listening enough to, like, sound unamused and uninterested. That’s a good thing.
Prompto clears his throat. “So I know it might, y’know, sound kinda crazy, and seriously! I thought it was crazy, too! At first, I mean. I definitely thought it was crazy. That I was crazy. But I think that, uh. I mean, crazier things have happened, right? Like, uh, like hanging out with the Astrals? Totally crazy, right? And—”
“Prompto,” Gladio interrupts in that almost-shouty-but-not-quite voice he gets sometimes. Prompto snaps his mouth shut hard, and the snap has his teeth aching. “Just tell me.”
“Right.” Prompto clears his throat again. “Right. Okay. So, uh. So I think Ignis might be pregnant? Yeah.”
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She knows that Noct loves her, and sometimes she’s almost certain that Noct is in love with her. Noct’s love for her—in her? with her?—is an overall positive. Ignis loves Noct, too, even if she’s not in love with him—though there are times she thinks she might be. Sometimes she worries at it, turning the idea of Noct, and loving Noct, and being in love with Noct, over and over in her head until she feels nauseated.
Is that—the nauseated turning-over of her stomach—what it feels like to be in love? When she thinks of what she could do with Noct, of what she would do with Noct if they decided to take their relationship beyond its few remaining limits, she feels sick. She likes women. She doesn’t like men. She shouldn’t like Noct, but she does. She really, really does, she just doesn’t know how.
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“It’s fine,” Noct says as she rolls her eyes. “It’s not like you can get me pregnant.”
Series
- Part 1 of Listen to the Never
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“Wait,” Prompto says when one girl in particular stands out. “Is that—is that seriously Iggy?”
It’s not hard to see the resemblance, even if Ignis in the video is probably only eight or nine. She’s standing a little apart from the two other girls with her, and her posture is as impeccable as a kid as it is as an adult. She’s even got the strict, no-nonsense thing going for her already; her arms are crossed and she’s glaring at the bars like she wants to maybe set them on fire, or read them the riot act.
Series
- Part 9 of Listen to the Never
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“Flattery will get you everywhere,” she says, and she feels her breath catch a little when Noct focuses in on her, leaning toward her. Noct’s been watching her the entirety of the conversation, but there’s a new intensity building in Noct’s gaze, something that’s been growing since Ignis had (somewhat cautiously) asked her, Would you be adverse to discussing our sex life?
“Will it?” Noct asks. Her voice is a little lower—not hoarse yet, or particularly erotic, but it’s going that way. It probably shouldn’t be a surprising turn in the conversation, but it still makes Ignis bite the tip of her tongue for a moment, a little startled.
Her voice is lower, too, like her body is trying to match Noct step-by-step. “Where do you want it to get you?”
Noct’s eyes flick downwards, to Ignis’s lap. To Ignis’s groin. The warm pleasure is making its way through Ignis’s body, curling its way through Ignis’s chest and stomach on its way to her groin, and Ignis shifts a little. Noct moves her jaw, a tiny jut outward that catches Ignis’s eye, and Ignis shifts again, breathing in through her nose as her ankle presses in against her groin.
Series
- Part 7 of Listen to the Never
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All things considered, they’ve been lucky. The only pictures of Noct at the party are from the earlier hours, when the alcohol was still being passed around surreptitiously. The worst misconduct that can be gleaned from the photographs are the teenagers (none of whom are Noct, thank the Six for small mercies) leaping into the pool, more or less fully clothed. In short, the photographs are far from incriminating.
“It could be good,” Aiellus points out as Ignis studies the pictures. “It makes her look normal, approachable.”
“Sympathetic,” Ignis agrees. The teenagers in the picture are all Noct’s classmates, as far as she’s aware. Noct presumably knows their names, most likely speaks to them regularly; for all that they’re strangers to Ignis, they’re each a part of Noct’s life.
“She looks like just a regular kid. That’s the route most everyone’s taken: ‘Princess sneaks out with friends,’ innocuous things like that.” Aiellus hands Ignis another photograph, this one of Noct laughing with two other girls. There’s a bowl of popcorn resting in between the girls, and there are a few stray kernels scattered in Noct’s lap. Between the awkward angle and the spilled snacks, the photograph makes Noct look human.
Series
- Part 2 of Listen to the Never
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Noct looks away, back down at her feet still dangling in the water. Ignis lays a hand on her shoulder, wet and warm, and Noct grunts in answer when Ignis says, “Toilet break. I’ll be back.”
It figures, really. Ignis is the kind of conscientious person who doesn’t pee in pools. Of course she’ll go to the actual bathroom, pull her wet swimsuit off her body, struggling as it sticks to her skin, as it catches and drags over her shoulders and her boobs and her hips and her thighs—
Noct turns enough to watch as Ignis walks toward the changing room. The swimsuit is really low in the back, lower than Noct had realized before. Like, she can almost see the top of Ignis’s ass. Noct bites her lip hard.
“Hey, where’s Iggy going?” Prompto asks, popping up from the water right next to Noct. It startles her, and she yelps as she looks down at Prompto, who’s looking up at her through his goggles.
“Um,” Noct says, aware that her voice is still hoarse, “toilet, I guess.”
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Noct really likes Ignis's body, and she decides to show her appreciation. Also, general sad feelings about paparazzi and lack of privacy for public figures. That's it, that's the fic.
Series
- Part 4 of Listen to the Never
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He doesn’t know if he’s putting too much thought into it, but sometimes he sorta thinks there’s something going on between Noct and Ignis. Sometimes it makes more sense, and other times it makes less. Right now, it makes more sense—maybe because he’s lying on Noct’s couch, not really sure if he’s actually awake or not, and because Noct and Ignis are whispering together, standing so close they sorta look like one person.
Sometimes—a lot of the time—it seems like Noct is hanging off of Ignis. She tucks herself close, sliding her arm through Ignis’s, or reaching into Ignis’s pocket to take her keys or phone, or scooting her chair over so she can exchange the food on their plates. And like, Prompto knows Ignis isn’t that cold, but she still seems unapproachable most days, kinda more like a statue than a girl just a couple years older than them. And it’s probably stupid and probably really cliche, but it kinda feels like Ignis melts around Noct, like she turns soft and pliant. She’s always looking at Noct, and putting her hand on Noct’s back, and straightening Noct’s clothes.
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In which Prompto accidentally gets hit with a clue bat, learns some things about his BFF, and is just in general a really good bro.
Series
- Part 3 of Listen to the Never
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“Noct,” Ignis says again, “it’s for the best. The empire’s terms are more than generous, and we can’t afford to turn them down. It would be—it would be foolish, and—”
Noct scoffs disgustedly: “The emperor, though?”
Ignis shares Noct’s disgust. He swallows and hopes that his nausea at the thought of the emperor doesn’t show on his face; none of them need him to express his horror at this idea, not when Noct is doing it well enough on his own.
“Aldercapt,” Ignis says slowly, so that his voice won’t break, “has no living heirs.”
“Don’t see how that’s a problem,” Noct mutters in a low, sullen voice. Ignis does his best to ignore it, to go on:
“A succession crisis is the last thing Niflheim needs, and what affects Niflheim will affect us all. He needs a marriage—” Ignis pauses, licking his lips. When he glances toward the king, he sees that the king is watching him. Ignis feels himself flush with humiliation and a desire to cry that is difficult to tamp down. “He needs a marriage that can offer him heirs.”
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“Hey,” Noct says, leaning across the cafeteria table to bump Prompto’s arm. “They’re planning on moving you into the Citadel this weekend.”
“I know,” Prompto says, because he knows this, too. It’s another event marked in the calendar leading up to the wedding: photos together, apartment hunting, moving in together—all these milestones that probably every couple goes through, only set at the wrong angle. It looks good, though. Put on the filter, and it looks like Ignis and Prompto are just like every other couple.
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A collection of fics/drabbles too short to get their own work pages.
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1. Milk Taffy - In which Ignis keeps falling asleep on the yacht, and Prompto tries to low-key make sure that Ignis sleeps safely.
2. the way that song went - A Promnis fic in WoR, in which Prompto is exhausted, frazzled, and also kissing Ignis in the doorway.
3. move like this - In which Gladio tries to keep Noct moving, because sometimes that’s the best––or only––thing you can do.
4. drop - In which sometimes, late at night, Ignis wants to kill himself. Just sometimes.
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“Mistress Baggins,” Thorin says. Briony had forgotten the sound of his voice, but when he speaks, it is familiar—achingly familiar, the way her mother and father’s voices would be familiar, the way her cousins’ voices are familiar after months apart. She aches with it, for it, and she wonders how she had managed to forget his tone and his cadence, the way he bites off his hard consonants.
“Thorin,” she says in reply. “This is quite unexpected.”
Then, stupidly, as she’s opening her pretty green door further, motioning for him to come in out of the spring damp, she says, “I dreamt of you last week.”
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An alternate universe of an alternate universe, for @ravencromwell who asked for a meme fic "wherein Thorin was alive, and he had to resolve all these things around his feelings for Briony/his child and his role as king; the power vested in him vs. his wishes as a man, which's like so much my fucking jam."
That's my jam, too. So there's a bunch of feels, and Thorin and Briony trying to feel things out slowly, tentatively, with little to no resolution. To be honest, I have no idea how far this will go, but hey! At least they're together!
Series
- Part 3 of Porcelain Figures
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“Okay,” Shiro says breathlessly. “This is okay.” He licks his lips, then shifts a little so his crouch is steadier. Keith is watching him closely, his eyes moving between Shiro’s face and Shiro’s hands, and Shiro breathes slowly for a few moments, trying to slow his racing heart.
“Okay,” he says again, for his and Keith’s benefit, but also for Pidge’s. “Is that—is that a kid?”
It is apparently the wrong thing to say. Pidge’s voice is crackling in his ear, asking, What? What kid? What are you talking about? Shiro, what kid?
Keith, on the other hand, is shoving the little Galran behind him, snarling, “Don’t—”
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In which Keith was held captive by the Galran empire, a little Galran kid was used as a threat/hostage against him, and Shiro's left to pick up the pieces.
Shiro falls apart as he tries to figure out how to deal with Keith and the little Galran kid with whom Keith is now super codependent and in a pseudo-parent-child relationship.
Also, Pidge is the most emotionally stable of them all, though Hunk's a close second. It's a whole lot of Team Castle of Lions feels.
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So Noctis gets it. He doesn’t understand it, but he comprehends it. He gets that it’s context, that it’s verbal and non-verbal cues, that it’s body posture and facial expressions and eye contact.
For example: Ignis interprets direct eye contact as an intensifier for moods and modals.
If Noctis says, “It would be nice if someone opened the door,” without making or maintaining eye contact, Ignis seems to hear, The door being opened would be nice, but it’s not a necessity under any present circumstances.
If Noctis says the same words, in the same tone—“It would be nice if someone opened the door”—while making or maintaining eye contact, Ignis seems to hear, The door should be opened, and opening it should be made an appropriate priority.
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For a FFXV Kink Meme prompt in which Ignis is an AI implanted into a human body, and he has been programmed to be utterly incapable of refusing an order from certain people. Noct thinks it's just him and is careful with how he phrases things around Ignis.
Expect lots of hurt, not much comfort, and a frankly ridiculous amount of rhetorical analysis, especially around grammar. Also, Noctis and Ignis may be a little codependent.