#humanity be lost back only to not being able to rectify it cause honestly I’d be horrified if I found out my enemy couldn’t even drive yet

[movedtodykedvonte]

I hope The Spot gets to die as a himself like pre-powers. It’s likely he’s gonna destroy himself trying to destroy Spider-man (I think he’s gonna for the mythos of the hero not just Miles, if the flash forward is any prediction) cause he’s either not gonna be able to handle the full effects of his abilities it and needs to be saved but it’s too late for him or does some not fully redeeming sacrifice as he realizes he didn’t have to resort to villainy and doesn’t want to go out with people fearing him rather than respecting.

It’d make the point that anyone can be Spider-man under the mask string as it’d point out that depending on circumstances anyone could become anything. In this case none of them would know The Spot personally or even in passing as Johnathan Ohnn, so seeing a complete stranger, someone who could of been anyone, defeated at the end of the battle would invoke a lot with the random chance and fate that comes along with being Spider-man if not just going through life rather than the adherence to canon events that is trying to be pushed on characters.

I feel like giving the Spot his face back would just make the climax feel more complete, an odd commentary on being true to oneself even if it is past your time.

[loveiscosmicsin]

Memory Lane Pastries

@letshareapapou wrote this with me. I must always credit the bae without fail XD Concept surrounding the pastries because I can never forgive for the poor execution of them in the game. I will write about these damn desserts forever. I can write about how Noctis looks at Ignis like he’s a Tenebraen pastry forever. FFXV Spoilers, just in case, but entirely different ending. When can I stop tagging stuff as spoilers? Posted on Ao3.

-

“Once this is over…”

“One thing at a time.”

“Fair enough.”

- Ignis Scientia to Noctis Lucis Caelum, circa World of Ruin

-

Ignis chuckled over the barrage of lectures Noctis received.

The King of Light had restored balance to Eos, fulfilled the prophecy, defied fate, and he received a tongue-lashing for his trouble the minute the four heroes arrived at Hammerhead. He survived to live another day or perhaps the gods deemed that this consequence was a suitable compromise for reclaiming his birthright.

The discourse handed over by Cid and Cidney wasn’t covering the fact that Noctis had gone to sleep for ten years nor he didn’t inform them of his return. No, the two master mechanics found the Regalia in Gralea, damaged beyond repair. It was clear that the Regalia was a small sacrifice in getting in Niflheim territory. Gladiolus and Prompto were fortunate to sneak away before they too, suffered an earful, and figured that they should head over to Lestallum to deliver the announcement that everyone could return to their homes.

Ignis decided to stay behind at the Hammerhead with Noctis to provide support. For someone as energetic and cheerful as Cidney, Ignis was thrown off by the blonde’s incoherent wails. Cid’s reprimands were beyond a roar, penetrating, there was still life within the crotchety elder yet and it wasn’t just over seafood. Nobody said a word to Ignis directly, it must’ve been the seafood cuisine he catered for those years. The advisor could chalk it up to the unspoken rule of not upsetting the chef.

But he didn’t intervene on the king’s behalf nor did he interject. He wouldn’t stoop that low but it also wasn’t Noctis’ fault for his unprecedented absence. However, some part deep inside Ignis felt that a little humility wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing. Noctis was king, to hear the common folk’s complaints and input would be advantageous until he’s able to sit on his throne once more.

He knew Noctis looked to him for aid, but Ignis ignored it. Talcott promised to help the king rectify for the misdeeds and imagined crimes he had caused. The advisor decided he should prepare a meal, it did no good for everyone to argue on an empty stomach.

Takka’s kitchen would do. The man was always a character who was easily startled, unlike what you could expect from a reformed thief, but elated to point Ignis in the right direction to the ingredients he needed or provide a helping hand in preparing meals. He had honestly helped Ignis in the beginning. After the Ignis, Prompto, and Gladiolus reconvened to Hammerhead after Noctis’ disappearance, they banded up as active Daemon Hunters. This arrangement didn’t last long, the three split up, it was too painful to be together while Noctis was gone.

Gladiolus drifted off into the night first, ready as ever to fight. He was a bastion and a cyclone, determined to protect but feared putting his friends at risk. He had Iris to consider after all, and Ignis didn’t need him anymore. Prompto was a bit more reluctant to leave his blind companion behind. Ignis firmly reminded the blond to follow his heart and not to worry about him, knowing he wished to pursue after the Shield. Saying farewell to his last friend had been hard, but Ignis did it how he did everything else: deliberate, pride was the most powerful emotion that often worked against him.

Cidney had found him drunk later, it wasn’t the brightest moment to be caught in, but when he sobered up Ignis found himself ready to face the darkness. It was a slow process though, Ignis was hard-pressed to admit that to anyone even when his assignments coincided with his dear friends’s objectives at times. Between his desires to fight, to breathe, to survive, the darkness of the real world seemed minuscule compared to his own. Try as he might, some nights did caught up to him and wallowing in self-pity and contempt.

Then one day, he drifted back to Hammerhead and found himself in the diner, cooking. It was so close to Insomnia, so close to home that it was easy. And so fucking hard. But Takka had helped him. A steady hand in the kitchen. It was what Ignis needed and he got better.

After a while, Ignis moved towards the sea. Maybe because it was the furthest thing from Insomnia, from everything. The sea salt in the air was comforting. Seafood became his best and rarest dishes. But now that Noctis, his king, was home, Ignis could go back to what he knew. It was all right to remember because he wasn’t hanging on memories. Noctis was as real as anything. He was here. Ignis wasn’t being pulled towards the sea anymore. He wasn’t drowning and trying to get lost in the abyss of nothingness.

Takka’s voice was as enthusiastic as ever. “Need a hand?”

Ignis smiled, “Certainly.”

“‘Fraid we don’t have much in the pantry for something huge. Had to give rations to the folks who left in a pitch.” The aged man groaned and his voice sounded much closer as he rummaged through food items. “Hope they get back all right and aren’t too down when they see what’s left…”

Ignis paused. Crown City citizens weren’t the only ones eager to depart to Insomnia and even if they were discouraged of their haste, nobody would stop them. Lestallum had been overpopulated due to the waves of refugees seeking sanctuary. Deplorable conditions also dwindled humanity and morale during that time. No doubt many would remain and others would find their ways back home.

“It’s to be expected, but there’ll be time to mend wounds and discuss reconstruction. All this altruism won’t go to waste now.”

“Suppose you’re right. It’s only day one, after all.” Takka scratched at the patch of a beard on his jaw. “What’s on the menu today, son?”

“There’s a pastry I’d like to bake. It’s been years but I think…” Ignis inhaled deeply. “I’m ready.”

He’d hardly tried desserts in general since Altissia but now felt right. Honestly he was probably still soaring on their victory, it was hard not to. He’d never felt so free.

“Need a hand?” A voice called, familiar yet foreign but it the best sound Ignis had heard in years. The advisor turned toward it. Noctis always had a deep voice but the ten years rolled it low in his throat and it sent a pleasant slide down Ignis’ spine.

“Hold your chocobos!”

“Uh-oh.” Noctis gasped.

“If ya’ll think I’m gonna let you skedaddle from making amends, ya’ll got 'nother thing comin’!” Cidney’s furious heels hammered the diner’s floor and Noctis let out a cry. “Sorry for the trouble, boys! Carry on.” The head mechanic commanded as she dragged the Lucian king out, ignoring his pleas to release his ear.

“Hell hath no fury…” Takka drawled. He jumped when Ignis chortled suddenly.

“Apologies,” Ignis cleared his throat, making his way to retrieve an apron from hook. “Do we have Ulwaat berries? These confections also call for a flaky texture so if we don’t carry flour, I’ll make do with substitutions, say spelt.”

Ingredients were indeed difficult to obtain during the decade. Hunters were assigned to delivery shifts for the basic necessities and resources. Ignis ended up teaching others on making simple, but filling meals with what was on hand. Many of his disciples lamented over fresh eggs and milk. It forced him to be creative and the textures were unexpected, and sometimes experimentation took a turn for the better. He was certain that everyone wouldn’t mind his take on these Tenebraen desserts. They may be intertwined with canned goods or preservatives since Ignis lacked the access to a palace’s kitchen. Would Noctis mind?

“Don’t worry,” A hand settled on his shoulder and squeezed. “He’s going to like them.”

Ignis was positive he allowed himself to be an open book. He turned away to reach for a bowl and cleared his throat, “Ah, that obvious, am I?”

Takka snorted. “Boy, you are so besotted with him. Y'all have to be the dimmest lightbulb in the shed to not see it. But you know… he looks at you the same way. Like you’re a kupoberry cheesecake.”

Ignis swallowed and struggled to keep his face composed. An interesting analogy, but one that he won’t inquire about. “I wish I could see it.”

“It’s the same since the day you boys first showed up here in Hammerhead. You didn’t see it then, but he watched you just as much as you watched him. The only difference now is time. You don’t need eyes to know how he feels.”

-

Ignis stepped out of the diner carrying a large paper bag full of pastries and a thermos of Ebony coffee. The pastries were baked to perfection despite some last minute alterations. Unfortunately, there weren’t enough Ulwaat berry preserves for the thirty sweets baked. Some of them contained banana jam and others raspberry and chocolate in lieu of the Ulwaat fillings. Takka attested that the raspberry and chocolate ones were the best of the batch and Ignis took his word for it. However, he wanted to hear Noctis’ opinion on the matter.

“Ignis,” Noctis greeted with a groan and metal grated against one another. Bones cracked and the king dusted off his hands. “Ugh, I can’t believe Cidney. I tried telling her what happened to the Regalia wasn’t my fault.”

Ignis made a noise expressing mock exasperation, “Wouldn’t listen to a tale you’ve spun? I’m amazed.” Noctis almost always managed to talk himself out of a tangled situation or at least narrated a grand story that brought the advisor enough time to bail him out.

“One order after another. Without a break, too. Now that’s criminal. If it wasn’t for Talcott, I wouldn’t be alive right now and we both know how crushing that’ll be.”

“Your Majesty, you shouldn’t upset Miss Cidney.” A young voice called out from below, Talcott’s, the tone sounded normal as the man rose to his feet. “She didn’t say those things for her benefit. Your idea of putting the car in the museum was a terrible one.”

“My bad.” Noctis grumbled, “Like grandfather, like grandkid.”

“I believe the two of you deserve a break for your hard work. These are still warm from the oven.” Ignis announced, holding up the paper bag. “I took the liberties of divvying portions for the both of you.”

“Knew I could count on you, Specs.” Noctis patted Ignis’ shoulder enthusiastically.

“Perhaps we could eat them together?” The advisor was hopeful as he turned to the youngest man.

“Um,” Talcott was hesitant. “I think I left the monkey wretch in the garage. Yeah. You know how Cid gets with missing tools.” The young man laughed nervously and the bag rustled as he retrieved his portion. “Thanks for the food. Bet it’s awesome like everything else you made, Ignis.” He left the two older men in a hurry.

Ignis was stunned by the man’s behavior. “He left without so much of an explanation. How pellicular.”

“What explanation do you need? Poor kid needs therapy after what we went through.” The king released the advisor’s shoulder. “So that’s for me. You’re a sweetheart. Got coffee, too?”

Ignis smiled, knowing that coffee paired off nicely with the sweet confections though he recalled how Noctis took his. With lots of sugar and cream, more sweeteners than coffee. Utterly unpalatable in the advisor’s opinion, but a certain prince favored it highly. “But of course.”

Noctis guided Ignis to a bench and a warm, nostalgic scent wafted around the two men as they sat down. The bag rustled and Noctis pressed the warm contents against Ignis’ arm, signaling him to grab a sweet for himself.

Ignis took one gently, a piece of the buttery crust flaked off onto his palm as he pulled the dessert to his chest. There was the sound of a lid being pulled back and a light thump as Noctis sat the thermos on the table. Ignis leaned towards him, just a bit, it went unnoticeable by his friend, and listened.

The sound of teeth connecting into his creation gave him goosebumps, he held his breath.

“So, how is it?”

“Could use a bit of work.” Noctis supplied with a lukewarm response.

Ignis leaned away with a grimace, trying hard not to show his disappointment. He bit into his own, bitterness overtaking him. Honestly, he should hardly surprised, it’d be years and even then, his skills were subpar from what they had once been. His mouth twitched, maybe he should cease with these silly attempts altogether, he was getting old.

Ignis used to detest baking. He was self-taught, having spent many hours in the kitchen since he was ten years old watching the chefs prepare meals as if everyday was a feast. When Noctis returned to Lucis from Tenebrae all those years ago, he went through drastic changes that a boy should never experience. The only thing that brought a smile to his face was talking about a mysterious pastry he was fond of but couldn’t recall what was in it. Ignis wanted to see that smile return and did all he could to recreate the foreign pastry.  

“Too sweet”, “not flaky enough”, “not quite”, “close”, and so on became indicators to inform the advisor that he just had to try harder next time. But not once did Noctis not finish the pastry and he always sent his compliments to the chef. Not once did Noctis sent a letter to Lady Lunafreya requesting the recipe, he let Ignis have free reign in this never-ending quest.

But Ignis never got the chance to perfect the recipe. He learned of the ingredients that were used, but never got around to baking. Then he lost confidence in his culinary skills the same time his vision left him.

A finger stroked his lower lip and Ignis’ knees hit beneath the table.

“You got… cream on your lips.” Noctis said quietly, it sounded husky in how the advisor registered it. Ignis didn’t adhere to reason, his heart thumping loudly in his chest. Surrendering the pastries was one thing, but…

I cannot give you up, he thought desperately and leaned it, guided by the sound of the king’s voice. They both made a noise of surprise when their lips met. It wasn’t like he imagined it would be. Ignis imagined their first kiss being more delicate and graceful. Here, he felt clumsy outlining the king’s lips with his own, tripping in dark. Noctis’ lips were dry and cracked. Motor oil and sweat assaulted the air around them. The combined taste of the berries and sickeningly sweet Ebony were heavy on the advisor’s tongue, but his eyes fluttered anyway because it was Noctis.

He was kissing Noctis.

As if the king knew what he wanted, he ran his tougue over the older man’s lips. Ignis scarcely heard the pastry fall from his hand and on the table. They were still close enough for Ignis to feel it over his and the advisor made a sound low in his throat at the motion. He felt Noctis grin before a hand was on the back of his neck and they were together again. Noctis breathed into him and sighed, beard scrapping over Ignis’ clean-shaven chin as the younger man tilted his head to deepen the kiss. Ignis followed like a fire drawn to a hurricane, only the flame didn’t extinguish but fostered into a warmth that spread across his chest.

Noctis pulled back with a laugh, “You taste so much better than those fucking pastries.” He laughed breathily as he leaned his forehead aganist Ignis’, “Which, by the way, you’ve always made perfect, you dork.”

“Perfect?” Ignis echoed, nuzzling weakly against Noctis. Intoxicated by their first kisses, the advisor’s thoughts were muddled. He now understood what Takka meant about the cheesecake metaphor, that embrace was heavenly and the advisor may dare describe, bold, on both efforts. “I could’ve sworn that all my attempts have been unsuccessful.” He frowned, certain that this batch was a failure because fresh ingredients were severely limited. The younger man always was curt in his compliments, it was never in his style to be excessive but what did it mean now?

Noctis’ hand curled over the advisor’s. “I said they’re perfect, didn’t I?”

That’s when it dawned on Ignis. “I never got the recipe down, did I?” Perhaps it was time to concede in the apron. Ignis deemed that he needn’t hear it in Noctis’ words. “It’s all right,” the advisor assured, minding to keep the disappointment to a minimum. “Baking was never my strongest suit.”

Noctis squeezed his hand. “Never stop baking.” He asserted softly, “I’ll never find desserts the way you made them in this damn world if you quit. You made them just for us.”

At that, this time Noctis initiated the kiss, moving close to Ignis and catching his mouth. He worked up a slow-burn of a tempo with his parted lips. Fingers slid up the brunet’s chest and over his collarbone before resting on the sides of his neck. Ignis hummed as the rough pad of Noctis’ thumb ran over his pulse. He pulled back and his hand dragged up to cradle Ignis’ face before he teased the older man’s lips.

“I love you, Ignis.” He whispered softly.

Ignis smiled weakly as he kissed his king’s fingers gently. “I love you too, Noctis.” I have for a very long time, he wanted to add. Ignis flinched as Noctis’ forehead fell on his chest.

“It feels… good to say now that the cat’s out of the bag.” Noctis exhaled as he dropped his hand. “All those years wasted when I should’ve had you.” Vulnerability made his confession raw. “I can’t believe I was headed off to die without telling you…”

Ignis blinked. A moment later he heard the telltale moan and smiled. Noctis shoving his face full of food to silence himself was a bit childish but made the advisor all the more enamored. The king made his point clear and the advisor welcomed any attempts made even if they were incomplete thoughts. He raised his hand to Noctis’ face. “May I?” he asked, hand steady. Noctis snorted but Ignis’ fingers found a cheekbone.

“Only you.” Noctis’ chuckled, and Ignis felt the skin under his fingers flex as the king continued eating.

Ignis carefully brought his other hand and together they mapped out a picture, puzzle pieces clicking into place. His fingers swept over the king’s brow, along his jawline, danced around his nose, traveled to the outskirts of long strands of hair framing Noctis’ gaunt face. The time trapped in the Crystal hadn’t been kind to him. His hair was a little oily, but surprisingly soft unlike the coarse beard he sported. Ignis wished to see the windows of Noctis’ soul, observe the same tranquility and maturity he demonstrated as a king back in Insomnia.

“Forgot what I look like?” Noctis joked, tilting his head up when Ignis touched his eyelids.

“Yes…” Ignis’ hands froze as he delivered the truth. There was only so much information he could gather from his fingertips. He concluded that Noctis was handsome, a tad malnourished but the advisor would see to rectifying that in due time. “It was inevitable.”

Noctis’ face contorted in animated awareness at his callous comment. He swallowed deeply and a stifled apology was lodged in his throat, “Ignis…”

“No, let me finish. I’m not proud to admit it, but human memory is a faulty, fragile thing. I recall…” The advisor commemorated the king’s defined features with each caress. “The imagination of you quite vividly, but not your face.”

Memory has a limited threshold but even before the degradation, it’s malleable, subject to other factors like manipulation and falsehoods. Ignis fought to retain the details of his memories, but they slipped away from reach over the years. Every moment became too precious to be discarded. Intricate concepts and visceral sentiments exist in the brunet’s mind, his disability would never rob those away from him. It was some consolation that he could form stronger and substantial memories through his other senses.

“I won’t forget you this time around.” Ignis said with great certainty. If the forces of the universe leave Noctis be, Ignis would keep his promise to commit the man to memory. Noctis was silent and the brunet feared he had overstepped boundaries, but the king spoke before Ignis could remove himself.

“Ignis, is this what you wanted?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“The 'once this is over’ thing you said. Back in Insomnia. The pastries, that kiss… This.”

“Who can say? It feels like a distant memory.” Ignis smiled, blatant lies when Noctis informed everyone the purpose of his destiny and demands of his bloodline. He rather not think back on that time. “But… Not as distant as the first time I cooked for you. A certain young prince flashed a marvelous smile that left quite an impression on me. Good to see His Majesty’s smile is still here.” He declared proudly, tapping his finger on the center of the king’s lips. Noctis smiled and Ignis decided it had to be the same one bestowed to him that fateful day.

Buttermilk pancakes drizzled with brown sugar and cinnamon syrup, plenty of whipped cream on top and sliced peaches on the side, a simple but delectable entrée, but the first meal Ignis made for Noctis. Noctis doesn’t remember, had expressed certainty that he must’ve loved it, and Ignis could verify that he most definitely did. A recalcitrant prince begged the young chamberlain constantly to make them, refusing to eat anything else for a time.

“I get it,” Noctis nodded. “Takes you back down memory lane, huh?”

“Our past forms the foundation of our present. We mustn’t forget that which made us what we are today.”

“Then let’s pave new memories for now on.” The king smirked before adding, “Maybe come up with new recipes along the way.”

“You’re impossible.” Ignis leaned in until the tip of his nose touched the king’s and gave his lips a quick peck. “Of course, we’ll take it one day at a time, Noct.”