male writers writing male characters: This Bruce Killshot. He has over 10000 confirmed kills and is the top leading spy in the Super Hard To Get In Spy Organization Of The World. He is a master of every martial art and can use virtually any weapon with ease. He’s not only a Real Gruff Man but a Ladies man who smokes cigars while Having Sex With Beautiful Women but he never gets attached. He’s a hard Whiskey Drinking Man who once killed an elephant with a toothpick and bottle of glue.
Men: this is so realistic wow such a complex character….
A woman: This is Angela she’s the chosen one of this story and has a natural knack for magic and can-
men: this fucking self insert mary sue this is fucking trash are you kidding me
One of my favorite thing I’ve learned about animals studies is that you should avoid using colorful leg bands when you’re banding birds because you can accidentally completely skew the data because female birds prefer males with colorful bands
Apparently if you put a red band on a male red wing blackbird his harem size can double
So like you can completely frick up the natural reproduction of a group of birds by giving a guy a bracelet so stylish that females CANNOT resist him
This is probably one of my favorite science anecdotes! This is why it’s so important to get outside the human umvelt and consider everything from the perspective of the animals you’re working with..,
When Ignis had listened to his King walking away from him in Insomnia, they had both believed that was the last time they were going to see each other. They had both known the price that had to be paid for the dawn. The ten years in darkness, with Noctis lost within the crystal had taught Ignis to be selfish, and the night before the final battle he had pleaded with him not to follow the path fate had decided for him. Begged him to live, to stay with him, not caring in that moment that they would be condemning the world to darkness. Noctis had kissed him that night, breaking the wall that they had desperately tried to keep between them for so long, and Ignis had shattered it, exploring his King, loving him in a way that had always been denied…and in the morning Noctis had walked to his fate with his head held high, and Ignis’ heart in his hands.
Fate was cruel, the Astrals were not.
Written for @vinomancy for the @ignoctsecretsanta. I hope you enjoy it, and Merry Christmas!
for @meezer13 - merry christmas and an ignocty new year, from your @ignoctsecretsanta
Title: Grow Fonder
Rating: T
Warnings: one very brief and vague description of masturbation
Blurb/Summary: Ignis tries to take some time away to pull himself together. It doesn’t quite work out.
It had seemed like such a good idea.
A six-month placement in Altissia, allowing him the opportunity to work with a foreign government department and give him experience for when Noctis became king, and the chance to study while he was there. Certainly, the course he'd enrolled in was in a culinary school rather than anything that would aid him in matters of state, but it was an opportunity not to be missed. Noctis had goggled at him in disappointed disbelief when he learned that Ignis planned on filling his spare time overseas with study, but he'd perked up on learning that Altissians had a lot of interesting and delicious ways of preparing fish. And while he'd grumbled about having to clean his own apartment for half a year (“You should be doing that anyway, Noctis. I'm your chamberlain, not your maid”) he'd still come to see Ignis off as he departed. Something that hammered home the necessity of Ignis' time away, really.
It had been rather sweet; Gladio and Prompto had tagged along, Prompto snapping pictures of Ignis claiming the need to prepare for “before and afters of the sick tan you're gonna get”. He'd also insisted that Ignis not forget to have fun.
“Make friends! Have a fling!”
“He's not allowed,” Noctis had cut in, and Ignis's heart jumped right into his throat. Gladio, irritatingly observant for a man who looked like he kept his brain in his biceps, had cut Ignis a look that made him feel utterly naked, but thankfully Prompto and Noctis were too busy bickering to notice either reaction.
“Uh, dude? He's your butler, not your teenage daughter.”
“Nope,” Noct had replied, drowning out Ignis' weak protest of chamberlain! “Have you ever seen Ignis do anything half-assed? If he tries to have a fling he'll fall in love and we'll never get him back.”
“And then you might have to learn to clean up after yourself,” Gladio put in, and Ignis could have kissed him for interrupting that particular chain of conversation. “Stop planning the man's love life for him and let him get on his boat.”
–
He does get on his boat, and Altissia is beautiful. Ignis could spend days simply wandering around, learning the shape of the city; tall, pale buildings sprouting out of the labyrinthine twist of it, all snaked through with the gondola-bearing canals. The gondolas themselves, he's pleased to learn, are not a touristy gimmick but a mode of transportation also employed by the locals, including the young man sent to meet him on arrival, who watches the way Ignis looks around and makes the greatly appreciated decision to leave him to his own devices with a contact number in case questions arise. There's an apartment for Ignis' use while he's here, small but clean and comfortably furnished. The exploratory wander he takes after tidying away his belongings reveals a cafe and little restaurant both within a few minutes' walk, and a market close by from which he procures a wonderful gelato and a pressing desire to put some of the beautiful produce on offer to good use. And when he settles in for the evening and opens his bedroom window to let the breeze in, he finds there's a window box filled with small, waxy white flowers that have an unexpectedly glorious scent given their unassuming appearance. The evening air carries it in along with the sounds of water and people living their lives, and Ignis is very pleased with the arrangement indeed.
It's perfect. Similar enough to Insomnia for him not to experience culture shock, but different enough – captivating enough – to be a distraction. In a place like this it should be simple to break himself of unfortunate habits like tracking the way the prince moves as if he's art in motion, getting silly about things like the bluest eyes he's ever seen or hair that looks improbably soft for the sheer amount of styling product that must go into it, or confusing what must be very normal pride in seeing the young man Noctis has become for love. He'll return to Insomnia equipped with his new skills and without any silly little crushes. An ideal plan, he thinks, and as he settles in for bed his phone chimes with the tone he uses specifically for Noctis.
Enjoy your time away, Specs, it says, which is sweet but uncharacteristic. Or so he thinks, until the next message comes through accompanied by a picture of an empty pizza box, the circle of grease in the bottom like a pirate's black spot, but for heart disease.
I know I will.
Ignis shakes his head, sends back a request for Noctis to avoid dying in his absence, and falls asleep with a smile on his face.
–
Alas, Altissia is not as much of a distraction as he'd hoped. He sees Noctis everywhere; in the blue of the surrounding ocean, in the little fishing spots scattered around in what seem to be the most improbable places. They make a local specialty in his cooking class, a dish that contains no fewer than three types of fish, and when he sends a picture of the end result to Noctis the flurry of texts that follow – entreating Ignis to come home soon, or better still come home now, with said dish - puts such a smile on Ignis' face that his classmate asks him if he's messaging “someone special”.
“Oh, no,” he says. “Well, yes, but not like that.”
That's a fact that's becoming harder to remind himself of. The messages they send back and forth become more frequent as Ignis' stay progresses, until they're messaging multiple times a day. It was never this way back in Insomnia; Ignis would message Noctis to remind him of important appointments or consult on what he wanted for dinner, and most of the time Noctis would answer. Now Noctis sends him messages out of the blue; pictures of cats he sees, the proud announcement of a dinner he actually cooked for himself, simple good morning wishes (though these generally roll in when there's only thirty minutes or so of the day left which could be considered morning). Then a picture of Noctis himself, which to Ignis' knowledge is very rare indeed – for all his good looks, Noctis hates having his picture taken.
Got an appearance, the message says. What do you think of the new suit?
Unfortunately for Ignis and his desire to work Noctis out of his system, the new suit is magnificent. It shows off the results of Noct's training with Gladio; Noct is slight and always will be, based on the general shape of him, but the cut of the blazer sits across his shoulders in a way that displays a new broadness and cuts in close to his waist to emphasise it. It certainly doesn't help that Noct is smiling in the picture – not the wide smile that makes him look almost like the happy child he used to be, but something close-mouthed and almost secretive. It is, to Ignis' great despair, very sexy.
It's good, he writes, and then, before his senses kick in and stop him, you look very handsome.
Thanks. And there's a little winking face, which does a lot to soothe Ignis' concern that he's overstepped a boundary but very little to diminish the guilt he feels that night, when he's finished thinking about peeling Noct out of the suit and kissing every inch of unveiled skin. That's how it goes every time; boiling want when his head is filled with images of Noctis as his own hand strokes over him and he bites his lip to keep from saying Noct's name aloud, and then dim shame as he cleans up.
It never stops him.
–
Working is pleasant enough. He's under the supervision of a woman named Sylvie, who is probably only a handful of years older than Ignis but takes him under her wing with the zeal of a mother duck. The offices are far more casual than what he's used to back home, which Ignis supposes is the result of not having a literal King walking around the place. Everybody is friendly, department meetings tend to be taken at local eateries over lunch and extend into afternoons of bandying new ideas about over carafes of wine and finger food, and nobody much minds if Ignis checks his phone from time to time. The window by his desk offers a view of the city, the sprawl of buildings framed by the glittering blue sea, and that turns out to be convenient when Noctis texts him asking for a selfie. The request makes him smile, even if Noct's response to his enquiry as to why is I miss your nerd face. Ignis turns so his back is to the window, takes a picture, and returns to his seat to see a man walk in to lean in the doorframe. Marius, he remembers. Sylvie had called him the office heartbreaker, and Ignis can see why. Everyone in Altissia dresses showily compared to what he's used to in Insomnia, but Marius combines it with flashy accessories, carefully styled hair and a posture that makes him look as if he should be modelling underwear rather than working in government offices.
“Ignis,” he says, flashing a brilliant smile. “I'm going to get coffee. There's a wonderful place not five minutes from here, and I'd be delighted to introduce you to it.”
Ignis smiles politely, and raises his steaming mug.
“Very kind, but I'm all set. You enjoy.”
Marius seems to falter for just a second, a little crinkle between his perfectly-arched brows, and then his smile is back in what seems like full force.
“Well. Perhaps later,” he says, and gives a little finger wave as he heads back out. Ignis sips from his coffee – perhaps not as good as it would be from a local cafe, but pleasant nonetheless – and turns back to his report until he feels eyes boring into him. He looks up.
“Hopeless, “says Sylvie, with such a tone of exasperation that Ignis takes her meaning immediately.
“Ah,” he says, which does not stop her from balling up a piece of neon-coloured note paper and throwing it right at his forehead. Ignis' phone chimes.
Hell of a view.
–
So it's semester break next week, the latest message says, and all your pictures are making me jealous. Know anyone here I could get to do all the paperwork for a visit to Altissia?
It is exactly the opposite of what Ignis requires to meet his goal here, and the suggestion makes his chest flutter pleasantly. Attraction aside, he misses Noctis. They were friends long before anything else, and while the people he's met in Altissia are friendly and pleasant to be around, it's quite lonely to be away from someone he's been around for most of his life. He considers for a moment, fingers drumming against the side of his phone.
Yourself, you lazy article.
He frowns almost as soon as he sends it. Perhaps he's overshot his attempt to avoid sounding too eager, but Noct appears undeterred.
Worth it. Last chance to say no, or I'll see you in a week.
It's a terrible idea. Ignis smiles.
I suppose that's that. Would you like me to arrange your accommodation at this end?
What, they didn't give you a couch I can crash on?
It would be nice to have him close, certainly. But the idea of making the Prince of Lucis sleep on the couch is an affront to every proper bone in Ignis' body.
I have a perfectly serviceable bed if it comes to that, Noctis.
There's a beat where he realizes how that sounds, and another in which he struggles to form a clarification, and then his phone chimes again.
Will you be in it?
Ignis puts his phone down. That's... well, perhaps Noctis is only trying to assure himself that Ignis didn’t mean what Ignis was worried it sounded like he meant. But he thinks back over the messages they've sent, the frequency of them. The smile Noctis wore in the picture of the suit, his request for a picture of Ignis, and his response. He's either a deluded fool or just a fool, and while he struggles to puzzle it out his phone chimes at him repeatedly from his bedcovers. He picks it up, nervous in a way he hasn't been around Noctis since their first meeting.
Too much?
and
I mean, I've been trying to flirt with you for three months
and finally
Sorry
A month! He is a fool, but a happy one.
A conversation we ought to have in person when you’re here, perhaps.
There. Hopeful, he thinks, and a clear sign that he’s still open to a visit, and that the suggestion – however inappropriate – was not entirely unwelcome.
Wait, you're not mad?
Not at all. Rather the opposite, in fact.
There's a pause, and Ignis forces himself not to hold his breath.
You dick. Way to keep a guy in suspense. Noct's reply makes Ignis laugh aloud to himself, and he hopes that back in Insomnia Noct is doing the same.
–
A week is both an agonizingly short amount of time for Ignis to feel prepared and far too long to wait. He lets people know the Prince will be visiting but not in an official capacity, and to his surprise and delight Noctis does, in fact, organize his own paperwork. Or at least he does some of it, and sends Ignis a picture as proof; Noct' status means there are rather more forms to fill out than for anyone else, and it would be a small miracle if his patience held that long. He'll travel with a bodyguard, who to Ignis' great relief will not be Gladio, but thanks to some fairly insistent bargaining once he's actually in Altissia he will be in Ignis' care. Ignis plans activities, plots out all the things he'd like Noctis to see, and then he sees Noctis coming through the gates and grinning at him and all his thoughts scatter like birds startled from a tree. He moves towards Noctis, and Noct towards him, and they hit an awkward pause at precisely the same time.
“Ah,” says Ignis. “Where would you like to go?”
“Your place,” Noctis says immediately, looking relived. “I figured you'd want to drag me all around to look at old buildings and water gates.”
Ignis did, in fact, want to drag him around to look at old buildings and water gates. He settles for a gelato on their way (“What is this, chocolate chip?” “Straciatella.” “Tastes like chocolate chip”), an insists upon carrying Noct's bag for him, though Noctis puts up very little resistance to the idea. He has booked a hotel room for Noctis, just in case, but it's nice to have Noctis here, in this little place that's starting to feel like his own. He puts Noct's bag away, gestures to the sofa.
“Kicking me onto the couch already?” Noct asks, with a lopsided grin that looks significantly less nervous only once Ignis takes a seat next to him. “So...”
There's a very slight shifting, and Ignis drops his eyes to the couch cushions, where Noct's hands are bunching and unbunching against the upholstery. It's... to be expected, he imagines. It's one thing to talk about something with the buffer of removal that text affords them; quite another to be faced with it. Not for the first time, he wonders if actually being together has changed things. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, but Ignis knows how the saying continues: familiarity breeds contempt. It's possible that faced with Ignis in the flesh Noctis has remembered all the times they've quarrelled, every time Ignis has fussed at him for delaying homework or official duties to play videogames, every time he'd thought he'd successfully snuck vegetables into a meal only to have Noct create a little pile of them on the side of his plate. Ignis draws a breath and reminds himself that the risk of a little disappointment now is infinitely preferable to guilt later.
“You're not obliged to do anything you don't want to,” he says, gently as he can, and Noctis snorts.
“That's my line.”
Ignis blinks, watches Noct's face for a moment.
“Pardon?”
“I just -” Noct sighs, his fingers still working at the couch cushions. “Dad's always telling me to be careful what I say to people in case it sounds like an order. So I -” Ignis is already opening his mouth to interrupt, but Noct's shakes his head – quick, decisive, and continues. “I need to know what you want.”
There's so much he could say. Part of him wants to apologise for leaving Noctis in any doubt. Part of him wants to confess just how long he's harboured feelings for Noct, trying to keep them secret and safe and sure that he was giving himself away.
Instead, he leans in and presses his mouth to Noct's in a kiss. It's a simple thing, close-mouthed and chaste, and for a moment Noct's answering stillness makes him worry he's done the wrong thing. Then Noct's hands move tentatively upward, fingers brushing against the fabric of his shirt before he surges into movement – hands bunching in Ignis' shirt to hold him close, his mouth opening, tongue darting into Ignis' mouth as soon as his own opens in response. There's an urgency to it that makes Ignis smile even before they break the kiss and Noct moves back, his breath sounding heavy.
“This,” Ignis says. “I want this.”
“Cool,” says Noctis, and kisses him again.
–
Ignis does insist that Noctis spend that first night at the hotel. Anything else would be too fast, which Noctis appears to be very prepared to argue against until Ignis draws himself up into him most prim posture.
“I see how it is,” he says, affecting a wounded tone. “You don't wish to date me. You only want me for my body.”
Noctis laughs, thankfully, and blushes rather charmingly at the suggestion of a date, so Ignis decides to take him to the hotel via the little restaurant near his apartment. It's a beautiful night out, warm but pleasantly breezy, so they walk past the canals and Ignis tries to point out landmarks here and there, though he notices that when Noctis says “uh-huh” his eyes are almost unfailingly still on Ignis.
They're just outside the restaurant when they come across a group of people from work. It's a little alarming, honestly; There's a respectable distance between Noctis and himself, certainly nothing to give them away, but Ignis still rather feels as if he's been caught with his hand on the cookie jar. He makes his introductions, declining to use Noct's title. Sylvie clucks predictably at Noctis and makes him stammer and duck his head by telling him he's adorable, and Marius flashes him a grin.
“Any friend of Ignis is a friend of ours,” he says, and then leans close in mock-conspiracy. “Put in a good word for me, will you? I've been trying to ask him out, but he won't take the hint.”
Ignis stiffens. He watches Noct's eyes widen slightly, moving from Marius to Ignis and back again. And then, to Ignis' utter surprise, Noctis reaches for his hand and laces their fingers together.
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