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may-day-voice · 3 years

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7 Minutes in Heaven

Eijirou Kirishima's Timeline | 172732014 ft. Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu

please do not repost, but you have permission to reblog :)

Happy [early early!] Birthday to Eijirou Kirishima & Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu! <3 I just couldn't wait...

• Watch/ Listen on YouTube: https://youtu.be/FfH9DvMCSMM

• Read on Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/1111162577-eijirou-kirishima-pro-hero-au-172732014-7-minutes

The city streets were drowned in the noise of traffic from cars and people alike while you walked on patrol, your head muddled with thoughts of that interrogation weeks ago. Seek still sat in your basement, now freed from the cuffs after the odd exchange he willingly offered between himself and the rest of the party. It was a surprise to even see Bakugou agree to the now enacted plan.

However, it irked you to keep all of this from the Commission, to enact actions outside of their jurisdiction and rules. To break the law, even though Shinsou assured everyone they were only bending them a little with ease. The Commission’s history wasn’t painted in gold, but they had learnt from their mistakes during the War. Surely, you thought.

You grumbled under your breath in an attempt to ignore the exasperation you felt, but it still persisted knowing Seek was still on your premises, in your basement. You were holding a fugitive outside of the Commission’s knowledge, and you agreed to it. Anything for Kirishima, you thought. He wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t important, and for his friends, people you had grown to know over the course of the year.

And then, another thought crossed your mind. Kirishima’s birthday was soon, grumbling deeper to yourself. You haven’t thought of a gift, or even anything special for him lately. With all that was happening, it slipped your mind, pondering on any small thing that would constitute a birthday gift even.

The city streets drowned your thoughts suddenly catching wind of the panicked cries of the crowd around you, and people running past from something behind. You felt the ground tremble, turning to spot a building crumbling from its foundations. You immediately took off running, pushing through the crowd upstream until you reached the corporate building, watching people flooding out from the doors.

“What’s going on?” You asked, pulling someone over briefly.

“We were told to evacuate, and then something exploded inside,” quipped a woman in a suit before she took off running.

You turned to the peak, finding it swaying from wherever the explosion had blown away a part of its concrete skeleton before you soon landed on any Heroes that were present. You only spotted one by the doors, directing people to leave and flee as fast as they could from the zone. You swore you’ve seen him before.

“Has everyone evacuated?” You asked, aiding people out along with him.

“Almost, but you should leave, this building doesn’t have long.”

The concrete began to fall apart, crashing into the ground and crumbling with resounding destructive force, threatening to crush anyone who wasn’t looking. Without thinking, the Pro-Hero ran towards a small crowd, his skin covered in steel before he took the blow of a large chunk of rock, protecting the few from being crushed themselves.

You stared at the man, finally realizing who he was now that he activated his Quirk.

“Real Steel?” You whispered, only distracted momentarily before you noticed more stone showering over the citizens fleeing the scene. With a running leap, you threw a kick or two in the air, sending a harsh shockwave into a few pieces of stone, destroying them into dust before they collided into bodies.

It caught the attention of the Pro-Hero, his steely gaze staring back into yours, curious now of your Quirk until-

“Thumper?”

You turned to find Kirishima, carrying a few elderly professionals in his arms and allowing them to make their way from the building. He had already activated his Quirk, covered in dust and debris from the building inside.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, concerned and confused.

“I… was in the Neighbourhood,” you replied wryly.

“Red Riot, is that everybody?” Yelled the Pro-Hero ahead, reaching the both of you.

“That’s the last of them,” responded Kirishima. “Now we have to-“

A sudden crack caught your ear, the sound of it resonating inside your head when the building itself split in twain. It shattered, its foundations now collapsing and now falling immediately to its demise. You felt your body suddenly collected in a pair of large arms, fleeing from the doors while you watched the building fall. Its shadow grew quickly onto all three of you.

“We’re not going to make it!” Yelled the fellow Pro-Hero while Kirishima turned to find the building edging closer.

With a swing of his arms, you felt yourself crash into the floor, watching Kirishima immediately grow in size, pushing his Quirk to cover himself entirely in stone. His body hovered over yours, watching the building behind him descend closer until the sheen of steel joined him, joining and interlocking their arms to shield you from the crash.

The quiet screamed in your ear. There was hardly any movement while you covered your head with your hands and arms, wrapping yourself into a ball. The trickle of debris echoed around, feeling pressure push against your back and hugging onto you tightly.

“Thumper?” growled a voice from behind, finding a large arm wrapped around your own. You felt Kirishima’s breath on your neck, huddling close.

“I’m here,” you said, reaching your hand to grab his. “I’m okay.”

“Thumper, huh?” Spoke another voice close to you, eyeing the sheen of Real Steel’s arms locked with Kirishima’s that sheltered your head. “I figured that was who you were. Kiri talks about you non-stop.”

“Tetsu, man, shut up,” replied Kirishima.

At this close proximity, you noticed finer details on the man - a toothy grin much like Kirishima’s while you stared into his silver eyes. The steel glinted against what little light cracked through the rubble, but was dulled by the dust. That didn’t help you eyeing his large bare chest through his Hero outfit and the size of him overall. Out of any of Kirishima’s work colleagues, you had yet to meet the Real Steel. At least this close and personal.

“Tetsutetsu, right?” You asked, staring into his silver eyes. “The Real Steel? Wow, I mean, your track record is amazing.”

“Thanks, it’s good to hear some recognition,” he responded with a toothy steely grin. “How’s Fourth Kind? I heard you’re from his agency?”

“He’s doing amazingly, but I think he’s going to kill me after this.”

“Another smack on the head?”

You burst into giggles at his response, agreeing with his sentiment before the rubble shifted on top. Despite the amount of rubble that pushed against the strength of both men, it didn’t seem to phase either of them, now utilizing less of their Quirks and maneuvering a little to compensate for the situation. Each little movement brought all three of you closer in the vicinity you had, finding Kirishima clutching onto you all the same.

“Tell him I said hi,” continued Tetsutetsu. “When we get ourselves out of here, I mean.”

“The Sidekicks shouldn’t be long,” reminded Kirishima while he still protected your head from the rubble. “You called the agency, right?”

“Yeah of course I did,” snapped Tetsutetsu. “What do you take me for? An intern?”

“I was collecting anyone unable to evacuate. Doesn’t hurt for me to confirm. How long ago did you radio in?”

“I don’t know, ten minutes, maybe. Literal concrete was falling from the sky.”

“Guys, hey, the more we agitate the rubble, the less room we-“ Your words were interrupted by the sound of movement amongst the concrete shifting atop Kirishima and Tetsutetsu, forcing Tetsutetsu to move closer in, pushing you into Kirishima and keeping you snug between the both of them. Your hands pushed against Tetsutetsu’s chest, feeling the cold steel across his skin while your body pressed into Kirishima’s, his heat permeating across your back and his breath washing atop your neck.

It was compromising.

“Wow, you really are cute,” voiced Tetsutetsu, staring down at you.

“Tetsu, don’t push it,” warned Kirishima, almost with a growl in his voice that you felt across the hairs on your neck.

“Hey, I can’t help it. It’s not often I get to spend some time with someone cute-looking, even when trapped under massive amounts of rubble.”

“Yeah, well, don’t get any ideas.” Kirishima’s grip tightened around your frame, protecting you from the rubble but hugged onto you almost possessively.

“Kiri, relax, I get it, you talk about them all the time.”

“He does?” You questioned, finally getting a word in.

“Of course, man’s got a huge crush on you, like heavy.”

“Tetsu!” Yelled Kirishima, feeling his grip pull you in.

“I’m only being honest. He really really likes you, like I can understand why,” continued Tetsutetsu with a grin. “I mean, you asked him out, he takes you out, literally every time anyone at the agency spots you for training with him, they can tell how much you light him up. And from what I can see now and from what I saw up there, I feel unlucky that I hadn’t met you first.”

You couldn’t tell if the heat from the tiny space was getting to you, or if you grew embarrassed from that semi-confession of sorts. Your hands still pressed against Tetsutetsu’s chest, feeling his heartbeat calm and steady. However, Kirishima’s arms and hands clutched onto you, still holding you to him while his lips pressed against your neck, unmoving and quiet. You felt his breath against your skin, feeling his embarrassment just as much as you felt yours. It only brought a smile to your lips, imagining Kirishima sharing his life with others and now knowing he shared you with them.

“Thanks Tetsutetsu, that’s very kind of you to tell me how much Eijirou really cares,” you said while your fingers clutched onto Kirishima’s, squeezing his half-hardened hands. “It’s flattering actually.”

Tetsutetsu chuckled while he shifted slightly again, holding his steel arm across your head and clutching onto Kirishima’s shoulders, sharing a bridge of strength upholding the rubble.

“Hey, that’s what bros are for,” he commented with a grin. “All I’m saying is that everything Kiri says about you is true.”

“You okay Eijirou?” You asked, attempting to shift your gaze to turn towards him.

“Yeah, I’m good,” he spoke against your neck, tickling it a little, while his arm protected you from the debris. “Sidekicks should be here by now.”

“Yeah, and most likely digging through the rubble,” continued Tetsutetsu with a stern tone, his eyes scanning around while listening intently to any sounds outside. The shift of rock brought some hope in all three of you, catching wind of the distant yells of people above.

“Hey, isn’t this almost like the first time the both of you worked together?” asked Tetsutetsu nonchalantly.

The question caught both Kirishima and yourself off guard, realising the situation was awfully similar. The mission in Esuha City together was a memorable experience, chuckling under your breath at the circumstances that followed after.

“So, you know the details of that day too?” you asked in jest, slightly turning your gaze back onto Kirishima.

“Who could forget? The whole place came crashing down, and explains how the both of you work well together, oh, and the day Kiri couldn’t stop talking about you,” explained Tetsutetsu, still attentive to the sounds and cries of people through the rubble.

“Tetsu, remind me to only work with you outside of Esuha City,” commented Kirishima in exasperation.

“Huh? Why?” questioned Tetsutetsu, a little offended by his statement.

You couldn’t help bursting out into giggles, still holding yourself close to Kirishima to avoid agitating the rubble any further. Both men looked between themselves and you, soon calming down from their quips to smile. They both shared a look, one that they both agreed upon, while Tetsutetsu returned to listening to the shifting of rubble and concrete above. Kirishima returned to you, hugging you closely onto him while you still shook from laughter at their behaviour. Within this moment, there was an accord. You felt protected between the two, understanding where they both stood as Pro-Heroes and as friends.

“Hey! We’re down here!” yelled Tetsutetsu, crying through the rubble.

The sound of rock shifted and eased on their arms, hearing the clear voices of Sidekicks and emergency personnel yelling back in response. Soon, sunlight breached through the cracks, seeing it glint against Tetsutetsu’s skin, gleaming against his steel. The debris still crumbled around with pebbles and dust until Tetsutetsu’s arm was freed to stretch above, leaving your head shielded by Kirishima’s hardened arm.

“Come on, you first,” ordered Tetsutetsu, his silver eyes staring into yours.

You turned to Kirishima, wanting any sign of confirmation from him before making a choice, only to be given a toothy grin by the redhead, still within the rubble.

“Go ahead Thumper, we’re right behind you,” he reassured, lifting his arm to allow some room for you to shift underneath.

With a nod, you moved slowly into Tetsutetsu’s chest, pressing against him to spot the sunlight above, finding open hands ready to pull you out from the broken debris. You reached out for them, feeling Tetsutetsu’s hands hold you tightly and safely before the sunlight stung your eyes a little. Hands grabbed you from everywhere, pulling you out from the dust until you laid above being examined by medical staff on your condition.

Tetsutetsu grinned at the sight of you being freed before he turned to Kirishima, finding a disapproving look on the man’s face.

“What now?” complained Tetsutetsu with his hand out to Kirishima. A moment passed before Kirishima grabbed hold of his hand, shifting from the rubble and allowing some of its weight to collapse from behind him. He still stared into Tetsutetsu’s eyes with that disapproval until they softened with a small smile on his face.

“Thanks for making me look good,” he spoke genuinely.

Tetsutetsu grinned back, ready to climb out until he felt a harsh tug from Kirishima’s hand, holding him back from leaving.

“But the next time I see you touch Thumper’s butt again, I’ll kill you,” warned Kirishima with that same smile.

“I was helping them get out,” retorted Tetsutetsu, releasing his hand from Kirishima’s before he climbed into the sunlight, being helped by emergency personnel above.

Kirishima soon followed suit, chuckling to himself before seeing the bright sunlight sting his eyes a little. It wasn’t long until he was helped by Sidekicks on his well-being in the aftermath being led to the ambulances on standby. He soon spotted you across the way, already examined by medical staff and being attended by a few Sidekicks from Fat Gum’s agency as well. He caught your smile from afar, noticing your well-being and how very little you came out unscathed from the ordeal. Good. The last thing he wanted was to see you with scars from unnecessary things.

“You okay?” you asked, watching Kirishima approach you after relieving the SIdekicks by his side.

“Of course I am,” he replied immediately, examining your head. “What about you?”

“I’m fine,” you chuckled. “Thanks to both you and Tetsutetsu. He’s a good guy.”

“One of the manliest you could ask for.”

“Manlier than you?”

A stern look crossed Kirishima’s face, causing you to chuckle at his response.

“I’m kidding,” you piped with a chirp. “No one’s manlier than you.”

“Except you,” he quipped.

You sighed knowing to give up on that kind of argument. Kirishima joined you by the ambulance, sitting next to you while watching the aftermath unfold. The building was no more, crumbled to a mass of broken concrete and stone. You leaned your head onto Kirishima’s shoulder, enjoying the calm until-

“Before I forget, I hope you have a happy birthday,” you mulled in passing, catching his ear. “So much is going on and getting my wishes in early is probably the best course of action.”

Kirishima was taken by surprise by your statement, however, you thought it best to send him at least well wishes from you. If a gift was impossible, and finding the time to spend with him was out of sight, it was the least you could do.

“Hey, we’re all going to head back to my agency, how about you join Tetsutetsu and I tonight?” asked Kirishima nonchalantly. “We were thinking of hanging out at Cantina’s. Shinsou suggested it.”

You raised your head to stare into his eyes, surprised by the sudden invitation. “Um, sure, is it a special occasion?”

“Kind of, not really. Tetsutetsu and I share the same birthday, so we decided to celebrate it early together before the actual day arrives. I think it’d be good if we all enjoyed it together.”

You smiled brightly at the suggestion, only to hear a familiar gruff yell catch both Kirishima’s and your ear. Tetsutetsu reprimanding Sidekicks was a sight to behold, lecturing them for the amount of time they took to answer a call. However, Kirishima chuckled under his breath, knowing the kind of stress that was placed on the Hero and close friend. He never intended a crisis to be the first time to officially introduce you to his work colleagues, but the trust was there. He had no worries at all.

#eijirou x reader #eijirou kirishima #kirishima x reader #tetsutetsu tetsutetsu #bnha tetsutetsu #bnha au #bnha fanfiction #bnha #pro hero red riot

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kikilefangirl · 3 years

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New Light

Barry Allen x Reader

(Quick Note: Happy Inauguration Day! After all the craziness and stress four years in the making, I wanted to write someone as kindhearted and sweet as Barry Allen.)

(Word Count: 1837)

“I’m on my way, Felicity, my train was running late—“

A hard shoulder slamming into your chest cut you off mid sentence and knocked you all the way to the hard ground.

Between the roar of trains coming in and out of the platform, shuffling footsteps, and your friend’s worried yelling through the phone, disoriented was a nice way of putting it. Your still head was spinning as you stumbled to your feet.

“Oh my, oh my god, I am so sorry—let me, uh— and you’re...already...up.” He rambled.

So it was a man who ran into you. And he was going on and on nervously as he picked up your fallen items. He had a thin build and dark hair, but you could only focus on his clumsy hands and apologetic eyes.

“It’s totally fine, just be careful next time.” You joked and pushed your braids away from your face.

The man rose to his feet and held your phone and purse out towards you. As you took them and gave him your best smile. There was something about his absentmindedness that was kind of charming and intriguing.

“I, uh, um...Barry Allen. I’m Barry Allen....Barry is my name.” He said.

You held in your laugh for fear of flustering him more and settled on a curious gaze. Barry wiped a hand on his back pocket and offered it to you.

“Nice to meet you, Barry. I’m Y/N.” You replied as you shook his hand.

You decided to omit the Queen part of your name, for now. Barry seemed sweet and genuinely interested in you. Having a dead father, a brother back from the dead, an out of control sister, and a mother on trial for mass murder tended to scare away any potential partners. You shifted your weight.

You had to get going sooner rather than later, but not wanting to let Barry go just yet, you took out a pen out of your purse and wrote your number on his palm.

“Try not to mow anyone else down today, and maybe give me a call if you're still in town, Barry.” You told him.

He stuttered through a response and turned a bright pink. You nodded with a smile and promptly walked off to your awaiting car.

“Barry Allen.” You repeated his name out loud once inside and heat built up in your cheeks. You hoped he’d call.

...

Oliver was waiting in his office for you when you walked up to the entrance of Queen Consolidated.

Pushing through the glass doors, you didn’t spare a second thought on the curious stares people sent you, you had spent your whole life getting them. A ping on your phone made you smile as soon as you saw it.

Sorry I ran you over earlier...I don’t really know places to go out here, but I could find somewhere if you still wanted to go out with me?—Barry Allen (from the train station, sorry again!)

A warm, bubbly feeling took over your whole body. Barry gave you a feeling you had rarely experienced: he was genuinely good. You needed some positivity in the midst of your chaotic life.

Before you could reply back, a woman’s voice and body stood in your way. You had only made it to the front desk.

“Excuse me—“

“No unauthorized personnel, here.” She explained.

Your eyes narrowed into slits as you looked up from your phone. Tons of other people were free and clear to pass by, but of course you, the black girl was stopped. Clicking your tongue, you tried to move past her.

“Do you have an ID for Queen Consolidated? If you don’t I’m going to have to ask you to leave before I call the police.” She said.

Bullshit.

“My name is Y/N Queen. Move.” You sniped. You were already running late as it was, but today of all days a white girl just had to try you.

“I’ve never heard of you. I’m calling the police.” She threatened. Her hand was already on the buttons. You huffed. What had started as an annoyance had escalated into full blown danger.

You quickly dialed your brother’s number. He picked up on the second ring.

“You’re late, Y/N.” Oliver chastised from the other end.

“Actually, I’m downstairs being blocked from the elevator, in a building we own, and a company we have shares in. Get down here, now.”

For a few tortuous minutes, you stood there waiting at a stalemate. The security was bounding down the steps; they were big men in dark suits and earpieces.

You ran your tongue on the roof of your mouth, a mix of anger and fear and shame. Oliver wasn’t supposed to bail you out. You were just as much a Queen as he was and should’ve had the same access as he did. You ground your teeth and folded your arms.

You were relieved when the elevator dinged and Oliver stepped out of it.

His eyes widened in surprise for a split second, before the realization of what was happening sunk in. To anyone that didn’t know him, Oliver might have looked calm. But the clenched jaw, pulled back lip corners and the way he furled and unfurled his hands as he adjusted his suit said otherwise.

“Who told you that you could physically block and try to remove my sister from the area?” He said with a straight face, staring directly at the woman.

You smirked as she stumbled through a range of bullshit excuses and ‘I’m sorry, Mr. Queen’ over and over again to no avail.

Oliver protectively ushered you into the elevator, but before the doors could close you yelled, “Might wanna see who’s hiring!”

On the way up, you brushed off Oliver’s questions and concerns. You had lived your entire life black, this was nothing new to you. But after five years away, it probably was to him. You weren’t a teenager standing by his or your dad’s side anymore.

“I’m fine, Ollie. Drop it, please.” You pleaded.

“That woman was going to call the police on you, Y/N.” He continued, still bewildered.

“I get that being on that island wasn’t your fault, but I’ve held my own as a black woman for five years without you or dad. Things like that are just a part of the package.” You explained.

As the two of you stepped off the elevator, you softened when he gave you a long hug. It was his apology, and you leaned in, accepting it. Five years was a long time away.

“I only came by to check in on you. With the break in and all, plus Mom’s party tonight...” You trailed off.

Oliver offered a small smile as the two of you rounded the corner. You blinked in surprise when you saw none other than Barry Allen talking to Felicity. Your mood instantly brightened.

“Barry!” You called out. At the sound of his name, he saw you and fell flat on his face. Clumsiness was becoming a theme between you two. You hurried over and helped him up.

“I’m so sorry!” You exclaimed, but Barry stared at you, confused. You held Barry’s full attention as if no one else was in the room. It was refreshing, really.

“Hi-hi again, Y/N...What are you doing h-here?” He asked. You held Barry’s full attention as if no one else was in the room. It was refreshing, really. Too bad Oliver had to ruin it.

“Barry, how do you know my little sister?” He said it, more than asked it.

Oliver gave Barry an icy glare. The threat in his voice may have had an effect on everyone else, but it made you roll your eyes in annoyance. He just had to add the little sister part. Barry straightened up and swallowed nervously, his Adam’s apple bobbing in the process.

Damn it, Oliver. You two were very hot and cold lately and it bothered you to no end.

“I met him this morning, Ollie, mind your business.” You snapped. You turned back to Barry and smiled.

“There’s a party at our house tonight, you should drop by if my idiot brother doesn’t kill you first. Text me for the address.” You declared. Your eyes burned with defiance as you stormed off, matching Oliver’s mood. You guessed you really were siblings.

As you left, you hoped Barry would show.

...

The annual Queen family Christmas party was honestly, the most awkward two hours of your life.

You, Moira, Thea, and Oliver stood in an almost empty living room. The only guests seemed to be the caterers. Barry hadn’t texted you, either.

“Maybe...people got lost on the way.” You offered. Moira smiled at you and patted your shoulder.

“Thank you, dear, but we all know the real reason. Nobody wants to be seen with the likes of me.” She said. She was right. You shot her an apologetic look and handed her another drink.

Oliver took the opportunity to whisk you away from your mother and sister, “Y/N, help me with the drinks, please.”

You obliged without protest. You had already been stood up by half the city and Barry. Family really was all you had.

“What, Ollie?” You asked in an exasperated tone.

“I know that you took on a lot, while I was on the island. And I know that being the oldest wasn’t easy, especially for you in the public eye. I read the tabloids.”

Oliver’s admission made you a little teary eyed. He was the first person in the family to truly consider you family. He was your big brother. He caught up on all of the horrible headlines and rumors that swirled about you after the news broke about the Queen’s Gambit.

“Which is why I invited someone special, tonight. For you.” Oliver said. You raised a brow in confusion.

“I’m not that great over text.” You turned around and your mouth dropped open a little. It was Barry, in a really nice suit looking finer than ever. You gave him a hug and he took your hand.

“I’m also not a great dancer, I’ll try not to step on your toes.” He admitted. You led him to the dance floor and nodded to the musicians.

“Don’t worry about it. There isn’t much of a crowd to judge you.” You joked.

You and Barry swayed to the music, talking and laughing the whole way through. Barry Allen, you found, really was the ray of light you needed in the moment. The past few months were some of the hardest in your life, filled with dark moments and uncertainty.

As Barry held you and told you corny science jokes and yes, stepped on your toes once or twice, you realized you had never met anyone as sweet and as kind as him.

When the night was over, you couldn’t help but look forward to the next time you saw him.

#black!reader #poc!reader #dctv #barry allen #barry allen x reader #oliver queen #Oliver Queen x platonic! reader #Oliver Queen x sister! reader #the flash #arrow

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be-ace-write-crime · 3 years

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Lovely Bride (Ch4)

The search for the stone is on as time gradually slips away for you and your husbands. If you cannot find the stone in time, your husbands will be forced into a thousand year slumber, while your mortal self is forced to perish.

Whatever happened to this Santana they speak of? What project is so important it has been consuming all of Kars' daylight hours? Is time really the only enemy still working against you?

“Wamuu! Come, I have something to show you!” you said, a grin almost splitting your face as you took his hand and guided him towards the river bank.

“Has your training born fruit so soon, beloved?” he asked, following obediently as you’d requested. You had been practicing your hamon while your husbands were out and while you couldn’t really say you’d gotten better at it in the two days you’d had it, it was getting easier to use.

“Well, rather, there’s a trick I wanted to show you,” you said, focusing your energy and stepping onto the water. You sank in about an inch or so, but were effectively walking on top of it.

“Incredible,” Wamuu breathed, his voice filled with awe as he continued to follow you. “You have advanced to the point of such a divine feat already!” he gushed.

“But this isn’t even what I wanted to show you!” you said, pulling him close. The water was up past his knees, and while the stream didn’t hinder him at all, he couldn’t tread on top like you did. You were almost smirking when you tilted his chin up with a single finger and got to lean down to press your lips against his.

The warm chuckle you got when he realized what you’d brought him here for made you giggle right back. “All this for a kiss, my darling? You could have just asked,” he said, his arms draped around your hips when he moved to hug you closer.

“This is more fun,” you said, pecking his forehead. He let out a deep sigh and you felt some of the tension drain from his shoulders.

“I wish I could stay with you longer like this,” he said, leaning in to rest his head against your chest. “I fear for you out there by yourself in the daytime. Humans are no less vicious than vampires if given the chance.”

“I won’t be alone,” you whispered softly, carding your fingers through his hair. It wasn’t nearly as soft as Kars’ flowing mane, but the short, bristly strands felt so nice running between your fingers. Their height, Wamuu’s especially, was an obvious part of what made them so glorious to behold, but something about holding your lover this way and having him let his guard down because he felt safe in your arms just filled you with warmth.

“Right, Aries will be a worthy companion to you on your journey, beloved,” he agreed. “I’ll see to it a meal is ready for you when you return. Please be careful,” he warned, lifting you onto your horse’s back and seeing you off before he returned to the temple.

You were dressed inconspicuously for this journey. Your clothes were of a finer make, but modest and plainly colored. You had finally gotten Aries to submit to your reins and a saddle and the massive black horse should deter anyone from trying to get too close.

You had enough money to simply purchase the stone, as it would be considerably harder for you to steal it than it would be for your husbands. You took great care to hide the money you had and disguise the jingling of coins in your purse to avoid being robbed.

Plenty of women in the capital were left unattended by their husbands if their husbands were traveling merchants, sailors or soldiers, but they would usually have a chaperon or at least a handmaid to escort them. You didn’t feel unsafe per se, but you knew a rich woman by herself, carrying a great amount of valuables, invited trouble.

The ride to the capital was easy enough. A well beaten path led the way and no one paid any mind to yet another stranger on a horse. At most some children looked and pointed at the massive steed, but no one stopped you. Aries might have been better suited for one of your husbands to ride, given his size, but he responded well to your calming presence and went wherever you guided him.

There were plenty of merchants selling jewelry by the side of the road and you stopped to examine their goods a handful of times, but you had seen enough gold and gems by then to tell these were mostly just trinkets and given their quality the red stone couldn’t possibly be among their wares.

You’d made it down to the docks with no luck, telling various lies as to what you were looking for and why. “My husband has been commissioned by a senator to create a great art piece.” “My father’s estate was stolen and the stone is a treasured heirloom.” “A servant stole it and my husband will be furious if I do not retrieve it before he returns.”

It didn’t help. No one knew of the red stone and while they could point you to the parts of town where you might find such a pricey gem, they had never even heard of an Aja.

It was late afternoon, going on in the evening, when you tied Aries down to rest and drink for a while before returning home. Everyone around you seemed to be gathering in anticipation of the departure of some imperial vessel, so you were left alone.

“I’ve never been here. How will I find some jeweler who is wealthy enough to have the red stone…?” you pondered out loud, sighing tiredly. “The stone isn’t just beautiful and rare. It’s a weapon in its own right. Like master Esidisi said, it would garner attention if anyone were trying to sell it, so why hasn’t it?” you mused. Then a thought hit you and you almost smacked yourself because it was so obvious.

“They’re not trying to sell it. It’s already been sold to someone who intends to keep it for themselves! Someone rich and powerful enough to wear such a gaudy and massive gemstone…” you said, grinning at Aries. “No merchant will know about it, except the one that sold it, because it is no longer for sale! It’s sitting in the collection of some affluent statesman or scholar,” you concluded, untying Aries and mounting his back as soon as he had finished drinking. He could rest all night once you had returned to the temple to discuss your findings.

The crowd of people parted easily for a horse his size as you made your way back to the main road, passing the caravan that was to be boarding the large roman war vessel that docked a few minutes prior.

“The stone is with someone powerful and rich who could afford to buy something so precious and also wear it without getting killed for it. Someone… Someone like…”

You were passing the lead of the caravan’s formation now, a group of soldiers riding horses that matched Aries in size to bear the weight of them and their armor, when your gaze was met by the coldest, most vicious eyes you had ever seen on a human.

Time almost seemed to slow to a crawl and you needed every second of it to tear you gaze from that icy, indifferent stare, for it to land on the very stone you had been searching for. It was the brilliant, glittering center piece of an amulet larger than your palm and there was no mistaking what it was, or who it belonged to.

“Someone like the emperor of Rome…”

When you returned you passed through your village first, finding your husbands there, rather than at the temple where you expected to find them.

“It is already dark. You are late,” Kars said.

“Lord Kars was becoming worried,” Esidisi said, noticing the way you flinched at being scolded. You could tell some of Kars’ more obvious signs of nerves at this point. His sitting on the edge of his seat, tapping his fingers, the pinch in his brow that made the markings around his eyes look sharp and threatening. He would sooner express his concern for you through discontent than affection, but you saw it for what it was and weren’t offended.

“Aries was tired. I didn’t want to push him too much,” you explained, glad an abundance of hay had been laid out to feed him already.

“If he is tired, that means he has served you well today,” Wamuu said, petting the horse’s flank. “How was the capital?” he asked.

Before you could answer Kars stood and scooped you into his arms, carrying you over to sit on his lap, making you smile. “It was fine. No one tried to hurt me, masters,” you assured him.

“They better not, or their head would roll before the next sunrise,” your master huffed bitterly at the thought. He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek and you returned the gesture in the hope of calming him down.

“I have… some good news and some bad news,” you started.

“Let’s get the bad news over with first,” Esidisi sighed. He probably figured you had found nothing, as they had found nothing for the past few days. He couldn’t fathom what the good news might be.

“The red stone has left the continent by sea…” you answered, noticing the harsh shift this statement brought in their demeanor. Something anxious and bordering on the rage they never wished to show you, but you had their full attention now.

“How do you know this?” Kars asked.

“I saw it. The stone is part of an amulet worn by the emperor now. I watched him board an imperial vessel and was told its destination was to be the city of Alexandria…” you said, wringing your hands together nervously. If only you could have taken the stone then and there, but obviously you would have been killed if you had tried that.

“Are you sure it was the red stone?” Wamuu asked. You nodded.

“I wouldn’t have said this if I wasn’t completely sure. It was a super Aja the size of my palm at least. The way it shone, it couldn’t possibly be anything else…”

“It would explain why we found no one advertising such a treasure… But the stone departing by sea is the worst thing that could have happened,” Esidisi groaned.

“We can traverse land far more quickly than any humans so long as we can avoid the sun, but to cross the ocean we would be bound to the speed of a human made ship. It is impossible to swim across the ocean to Alexandria in a single night and there would be nowhere to hide from the sun... “ Kars said, near shaking with rage.

“It takes a week to sail from Rome to Alexandria,” Esidisi said.

“It takes only five if we depart from the southernmost point of Sicily,” Kars said, standing up.

“Aries isn’t fit for that journey tonight and I see no other way for (Y/N) to keep up,” Wamuu said. Neither of you wanted to leave him behind, but your poor boy was exhausted after a full day of traveling.

“I have a solution for that. Prepare to depart within the hour,” Kars announced, vanishing to retrieve whatever the four of you might need on this journey.

“Will we be coming back here?”

“Unlikely,” Esidisi answered, looking up at the temple. “Best you gather anything you would like to see preserved. This may be the last time you see your home at all,” he professed gravely.

You swallowed a lump in your throat and asked Esidisi to bring you up the mountain. Your belongings already consisted of very little. Of course, of the treasure your husbands had gathered you wished you could bring all of it, but you wouldn’t have much use for wealth. It was so jarring to think you might never see your home again. Some other humans would find this shell of a village and move in eventually, but a thousand years from now, would any of it still be there? Would anyone know about your people?

You gathered all the things that had become significant to you. The wreath you had been given by your people, the dagger you got from Wamuu, the scrolls detailing the use of hamon and your people’s history from Esidisi, and the vial of antidote from lord Kars. That and whatever clothes you deemed worth packing. Kars emerged from his chamber with a large bag hanging from his shoulder, a single stone mask with a hollow fit for the red stone and a small wooden box. Your candle barely shone into his large bedroom, but you could see the faint glittering of gold and the numerous maps and tapestries that he left behind.

“Have you gathered all you needed to?” he asked. You nodded, holding the somewhat heavy bag with both your hands. It felt like a lot to bring along and yet far too little if it was all that was going to be preserved of your entire way of living. You kept reminding yourself if only you could find the stone in time this wouldn’t be the end.

“Are you sure you don’t want to bring anything else?” you asked, just to be sure.

“I remember everything that is written in those scrolls and drawn on those maps. If we are forced to sleep those would turn to dust before we return and we have no use for material goods like humans do. I am only bringing items that may serve a purpose or cannot be easily replaced,” he said, taking your bag and slinging it over his shoulder as well.

Esidisi had gathered up enough money to buy a small country and a single change of clothes for Wamuu and himself. None of them were very sentimental about worldly possessions it seemed. It made sense, given their immortality, to not get too attached to material things, but your little mortal self still felt a pang of hurt leaving the temple and all that was left there behind.

“Is there anything else in the village you wish to bring, dear (Y/N)?” Wamuu asked. He’d made the effort to gather roughly a week’s worth of food for you on your journey and the supplies to care for Aries, but your boy still looked tired and ready to get his saddle off and rest.

“No, there’s nothing here that would be sensible to bring along. I’ll miss it, but it’s alright,” you said, forcing a smile.

“Lord Kars, you had a way for Aries to endure the journey to Sicily tonight?” your first husband asked. Kars opened the box he’d brought along, showing a very different stone mask from the ones you’d seen before. One made to fit the face of a horse.

You stared at him for a moment, slack jawed. A vampire horse?!

“I’ll ask your permission, but really, you’ll need a proper mount for this journey and either you let Aries be transformed, or you’ll have to leave him behind,” he said, holding the mask out to you. The stallion still liked to nip at your master or try to when he got too close. He preferred Wamuu and yourself as his caretakers.

“That’s alright,” you said, stroking your horse’s neck and ears. To you it didn’t matter much if he was transformed. You’d feel guilty for depriving him of the sun, but in exchange he would remain by you and your husbands’ sides forever as an immortal creature of legends. If he did have to eat meat from living things you wouldn’t mind, so long as he didn’t turn his appetite on good humans. “I love you so much, sweetie. This will hurt for a moment, so please forgive me,” you said, placing the mask over his face. Esidisi kindly spilled just a few drops of blood on it and a series of spikes dug itself into his skull with a loud crunch.

Aries staggered and cried. Wamuu pulled you back and you winced in sympathy for your sweet boy as his hooves slammed down like a sledge on an anvil and he shook off the mask. His teeth were razor sharp and he seemed even bigger and more imposing than before. There was a clarity in his now blood red eyes, like he understood he had been changed. For a moment you were scared, thinking he might turn on you for allowing him to be hurt now that he was a vampire, like the wretched old man you’d been forced to kill, but Aries settled and bowed his head, nudging you gently like he’d done the night you first met.

“The transformation went over well. Better than I expected,” Kars said, reaching over to stroke the horse’s head, but Aries still snapped at him and now he could have likely taken several fingers off. Your master yanked his hand back and scowled. “Still as temperamental as ever, I see… He retained his overall memories and attitude. He’ll have the stamina and speed required for this journey now. Are you all ready to leave?” he asked.

“Yes, my masters. I’m ready,” you answered.

Truth be told, you were tired. You’d been up before sunrise and out all day, but sleeping was the furthest thought from your mind right now. Hoofbeats came down like rolling thunder in the night's darkness. The new moon left the path enveloped in shadow, but Aries galloped straight ahead wherever he was led to, never hesitating or fussing to show fatigue. You were hardly guiding him; you didn’t know where you were going, but you could sense your husbands nearby, even in the dark. Brief flashes of light or warmth, or the wind whipping unnaturally, told you they were close.

“Are you alright?” Wamuu asked you at some point. You’d completely zoned out for a while now, only focussing slightly when you passed through the occasional village. You were aching from how long you’d been riding for, even with hamon to ease the strain on your body, and exhaustion was taking its toll.

“Are we almost there?” you asked back. It felt like you were going so fast you might be, but you wouldn’t get your hopes up too much. You jerked as you felt yourself being suddenly lifted out of your saddle, but calmed down quickly in the familiar embrace of your husband’s arms. He’d taken your place as the rider, cradling you in his arms instead. “Isn’t both of us too heavy?”

“Normally, yes, but Aries is a vampire now. He can easily carry both of us,” he assured you. Esidisi had once told you the strength of a vampire was between five and ten times that of a human. If the same applied to vampire horses carrying both of you shouldn’t be a problem. He was certainly big enough for Wamuu to ride as well. “You seem tired,” he pointed out.

“I am,” you sighed. “But more than that, I’m nervous,” you said. Being held in his arms eased the aching of your legs and back, but you couldn’t relax completely just yet.

“Come what may, my shining dawn, we will persevere,” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Very soon we will reach the ocean to cross onto the island of Sicily. We will travel along its shore until we can go no further and from there we will take a ship to Alexandria,” he explained, helping you sit up. You knew the plan already, but still couldn’t keep a grin off your face.

“You want to show me the ocean?” you asked. You did remember asking before, but you’d almost forgotten about it already.

“I realize it’s not exactly what you intended, but I would like you to enjoy it regardless,” the wind god answered. “I remember first seeing the ocean myself. Lord Kars and Esidisi hadn’t bothered to explain it to me and proceeded to laugh when I asked which way would take us around this lake the fastest. My brother Santana tried to drink from it. That was a very unpleasant surprise,” he told you, making you laugh. “Lord Kars says a great thinker should be able to imagine an ocean from seeing a single drop of water. I suppose that is why he is a philosopher and a scientist and I am a warrior,” he added.

“You possess wisdom in different walks of life, my love,” you said, leaning your head against his chest. “Whatever happened to your brother? You’ve mentioned him before, but I’ve never seen him. Where is he?”

You couldn’t see very well in the dark, but you could tell Wamuu’s mood fell instantly with that question.

“Lord Kars killed every member of our tribe who rejected his views, nearly all of them. Most because they sought to bring him down, but many simply because he didn’t deem them worthy if they only strived to wait out eternity underground… Santana and I were children when this happened and for many years we resided where our tribe had once lived while lord Kars sought to perfect the stone masks. Eventually he came to the conclusion mere stone would not suffice and we would leave in search of a catalyst that would perfect his creation and us in turn. Santana and I were… adolescent at that time, he was younger than me by a thousand years or so, but old enough to make his own choices,” he explained, voice tinged with sadness. “When lord Kars said we would cross the ocean and not return, he rebelled, deciding he would rather remain by himself in the ruins of our old tribe by himself. He and lord Kars had grown somewhat indifferent to our training in favour of their… our pursuit of the stone… Master Esidisi thought it a childish rebellion. He persuaded lord Kars to wait for his return… We waited on that shore for a decade. The human population was dwindling. We left and that was the last I saw of him. About 3000 years ago,” he explained.

You swallowed a lump in your throat, bracing yourself to ask the next question. “I-Is he alright? The sun… were there hamon users on this continent as well…?”

“Hm? Santana was young, but strong and smart enough to stay out of the sun. There were no hamon users there and enough stone masks that I am sure he is alive and well!” he said, although he sounded like he was trying to reassure himself as much as you.

Aries pace began to slow. Over the sound of his heavy breathing and the trot of his hooves you could hear the subtle lull of waves dragging over the shore. “Best not mention this to lord Kars or master Esidisi. They will deny it, but the loss of my brother has caused them great pain.”

You nodded, standing on shaky legs as you were let down onto the sandy shore. Kars had killed all who didn’t share his views, yet he waited on Santana for ten years. Clearly this testified to some sort of greater love, even if they hadn’t chased him when he left. If after ten years he didn’t come find them, he likely wouldn’t have changed his mind about the search for the red stone if they had. Even you knew Kars wouldn’t be dissuaded from his plans, so perhaps it really was for the best that he stayed behind somewhere familiar. You hoped the stone masks meant he had some kind of companionship, although you were pretty sure Wamuu meant to imply he had plenty of vampires to turn into food.

“I warned you riding that horse would slow it down,” Kars said. You could just barely make out his face in the dark, but your eyes were caught by something possibly more beautiful than that. The ocean was as smooth as a mirror and the stars illuminating the sky reflected off the pitch black depths like an infinite cosmos.

“Forgive me, lord Kars. Our dear bride looked like she needed some company,” Wamuu explained, followed by a sound like a whip cracking and an uncharacteristic sound of surprise from your first husband. You were sure you’d never heard him gasp for anything, but that’s what it sounded like.

“Don’t use her as an excuse, Wamuu. You were the one craving company,” his master corrected him and you snorted a laugh while he put a hand over his sore backside where he’d been struck.

“Hah! You have not resorted to physical reprimands in a long time, my lord. Don’t be so harsh on him. I’m sure he just wanted to spend some time with someone a little closer in age,” Esidisi said and you bit your tongue hard to a barrage of comments and questions to yourself. You usually prided yourself on being able to keep secrets, but this was a lot to take in, let alone keep it there.

“He can do so without telling lies. There is a ferry that will take us across to Sicily. From there it will be about two more hours to the southernmost point of the island. We’ll need to secure a ship before dawn breaks, so don’t waste any more time on pleasantries,” he warned back.

“Understood, master,” Wamuu said. “I’ll recover the time I wasted by blowing wind in your sails. I’ll swim across easily,” he said. You could only make out this ‘ferry’ by the sails blocking out the stars in one spot.

“It’s impossible to blow wind in the sails when you’re on the vessel with us?” you asked. “I mean it seems unlikely, but the god of wind…”

“His control of wind is a physical ability, not some divine magic from human myths. It might create some motion, but more likely it will damage the mast,” Kars answered, picking you up and lifting you onto the ship.

“I still don’t fully understand your powers or what you are. You’re not the gods of legend I was taught to worship. Since your arrival, I don’t know what to believe anymore,” you said. You were hurting all over and couldn’t see a thing, so that was probably best you let yourself be carried. It would also give you a brief window to talk to Kars away from Wamuu before you would be confined to a ship together for a week. Aries made the leap aboard almost as easily and Esidisi was right behind you when a sudden torrent of wind disturbed the mirror-like surface of the ocean and the ship jerked into motion.

“We were born from two parents each, just like humans. We were always immortal, living vicariously through the living things around us, but the masks I made gave us the powers you would call magic or miracles. We have seen hundreds of human communities, all worshiping their own gods and sometimes worshiping us as well. We never did encounter any of your human ‘gods’ and in many cases they seemed to worship perfectly natural things as miracles. I for one don’t concern myself with any gods, unless they should attempt to stand in my way,” Kars explained.

“And there is no one else like the three of you?” you asked. You didn’t expect him to give a straight answer, but you didn’t expect him to lie either. You were curious either way.

“There is one more like us. A youngling by the name of Santana, who still resides on the continent we hail from,” Kars answered, pausing for a moment. “Perhaps you will meet him when we have obtained the stone. Besides him there is no one,” he said simply, handing you off to Esidisi before you could ask anything else. “The crossing will be swift, so restrain yourself. The horse has done enough to bruise her loins tonight,” he warned, making you blush.

“My loins are perfectly fine,” you insisted in a huff.

“I could fix that,” your second husband promptly offered. Luckily he could see your flustered expression in the dark and just laughed. It was true it was your legs and back that were hurting, but you were in no mood to spread your legs in any capacity. “You were wondering about Santana?”

“Yes,” you admitted. “Wamuu asked me not to press the matter, but if you’re the only ones left from your kind… Even lord Kars said that once you have obtained the stone…” You trailed off as your hand was brought up to your lover’s face and you could feel the hot tears rolling down his cheeks.

“I treasure him and Wamuu as I would my own children, dear (Y/N),” he murmured, clearly holding back worse tears. “He was becoming so strong and I had nothing left to teach and he took this as neglect… When Kars decided we would depart from our homeland where we were worshiped as gods in search of some way to further advance the masks it was the last straw… Ten long years we waited, but he never came around… I knew in my heart of hearts he lives, but…” Esidisi trailed off, his shoulders shaking with heaving sobs and you quickly hugged him, letting him soak the fabric of your dress with tears.

“Esidisi… my king of flames, you will see him again… Soon you will have the stone and when you do-”

“Will he still want us in his life after all those years? Will he forgive us for leaving? It’s been so many years, he’ll have grown up and I will never get those moments back~!!!” he sobbed, partially muffled against your chest.

You gently pat his head, shushing him softly while he wailed.

“He’ll still love you. It’s true you can’t change the time you spent apart, but you can’t change the centuries you spent together either…” you tried to remind him. You didn’t want to tell him to stop crying. He had never once told you to stop crying, and you had cried a lot. However, you weren’t supposed to bring this up and now Esidisi was in hysterics.

The ship jerked to an abrupt halt, the wooden boards creaking from the amount of force dragging the vessel onto the shore.

“That was quick…” you noted, blinking in surprise as Esidisi’s crying stopped just as abruptly.

“Ah, yes. It is a short distance and Wamuu’s winds are exceptionally strong. Thank you for allowing me to vent these thoughts and emotions with you, my darling,” Esidisi said, standing and lifting you up with him. “I am glad to have you, my dancing flame, to ground me when my emotions run too high.”

“Y-You’re welcome? You calmed down very quickly,” you said, a little confused. You winced as you were lifted back into your saddle. This ride was not going to be a pleasant one.

“Relieving pent up feelings through crying like that keeps me in control of my emotions when I need to be. Now is no time for crying or we won’t make it before sunrise. Come on, let us hurry!” he said, a light smack to Aries’ rear spurring him into a gallop as he gave chase to your husband.

“Shouldn’t we wait for Wamuu to catch up?” you asked. Riding along the beach shore would be easier. The sand was easy to ride on and the water’s edge gave you a rough idea of where you were headed, instead of riding blind.

“That would defeat the purpose of the head start he gave us. When we arrive at our destination, we still must secure another vessel and hope the wind turns more favorably,” Kars answered.

Logically you knew it would be alright. Even if you didn’t make it before dawn, you would reach Alexandria in a few days. Finding the emperor of Rome shouldn’t be too hard and you had no doubts your husbands could take the stone easily.

Still, you were uneasy. What if you didn’t make it in time and your husbands got burned in the sun? What if something happened while you were out at sea? What if you had made a mistake, and you wasted your husbands’ time for a gaudy piece of red glass? What if you didn’t find the stone at all?

These uneasy thoughts plagued you. If this all turned out to be for nothing, you would have no one but yourself to blame. They would have no one but yourself to blame.

The coming day colored the distant horizon a pale blue and the stars flickered out one by one against the dark sky. The threat of sunlight loomed in that distance and you were so ready to just collapse.

Exhaustion began feeding into your worries. They hadn’t made you a vampire so you could help them find the stone and what good would you be if you failed at that?

Esidisi might have had the right idea about crying the way he did, but crying to him about this would mean openly admitting to your worries and fears. You would have to tell them and you simply couldn’t bring yourself to, so these feelings stayed cooped up inside you.

You could already see clearly when you made it to a harbor town on the southern cape of the island. Fishermen were getting ready on smaller boats and you and Aries followed your husbands at a calm trot as they slowed to board the largest vessel on the small dock. It was another ship belonging to the imperial navy and it was guarded, but your husbands walked almost right through them onto the ship. You still flinched seeing it, those soldiers didn’t even know what hit them before they died.

“How much do you know about sailing a ship like this?” Kars asked you as he and Esidisi began preparing for departure like they had owned it for years.

“My family didn’t think I should be outside of the kitchen. I don’t know a thing about sailing…” you answered. Why would they teach you anything about finding your way if you were never supposed to leave your little village?

“Right. I expected as much. You see where the sun is rising? That’s the direction we’re heading in. By noon the sun should be behind you. We can teach you how to properly navigate later,” he sighed. You wanted to sigh back at him, because you needed to rest. You could go a single night without sleep, but not a night like this one.

“Yes, master… Do you not get tired at all? Ever?” you asked, standing at the ship’s helm.

“I get tired of waiting,” Kars remarked snidely. For someone who supposedly didn’t get tired then, he sure sounded like someone who hadn’t had his coffee after four hours of repeatedly interrupted sleep.

That being said, you were getting worried. The sun was almost up and there were no mountains or trees, or anything that would provide shade for them to walk safely.

“Is Wamuu going to be here in time?” you asked, looking for reassurance.

“If I’m being honest, he might not be here before dawn,” Esidisi said, getting Aries settled below deck and out of the light. You jerked and sputtered for something to say, but they both laughed.

“Wamuu has been working on a new technique to get around his vulnerability to the sun’s light. He wanted to surprise you with it, but I suppose it would be better to tell you now than to have you fear for his life once the sun rises,” Kars said, joining Esidisi in the shadow of the ship’s hold. You were stunned at how casually they brushed off the risk, or rather the inevitability, of their companion burning in the rays of the sunrise.

The ocean current and a strong breeze were already pulling the vessel away from the shore and you had no way of controlling its pace, only its direction. The horizon was set awash in a blaze of red and gold, sunlight reflecting off the surface of the waves to the point where it was almost blinding. The light was warm, but all you felt were cold chills as you clutched the ship’s wheel to stay upright, looking out across the beach where you still didn’t see Wamuu.

You felt yourself about to start crying again, when your tired, bloodshot eyes noticed something moving rapidly towards you. At first it looked like it was just the wind, carrying a gust of dry sand with it, but it was too oddly shaped. It took until the strange creature leapt into the air, over you, and onto the main deck that you understood what was happening. Wamuu had encased himself in a tempest strong enough to have the vapor in his currents refract and reflect light away from him, essentially creating his own shadow from wind. While it certainly wasn’t the glorious sight of the morning sun washing over his bronze skin, to have him stand beside you in the daylight made your heart leap with both relief and utter joy.

“I-I’m so glad you’re safe! That’s incredible! You’re incredible!” you almost yelled.

“I’d say that puts us even for yesterday morning,” he chuckled.

“Heh, only if I get a kiss!” you said with a big grin.

“Later. Best not to break these winds in the light of day,” he said, a little gust of wind dancing through your hair and making your skirt flutter like a playful caress before he went to join the rest of your little family in the dark hold of the ship.

Relief from having him safely in your care was enough to unwind the knot of anxiety in your stomach and you could finally relax somewhat. Your already shaky legs were getting used to the rocking of the ship. There was something slightly surreal about being the only one on deck like this, watching the sunrise, steering a ship of this size.

It was also a little surreal to think of the three pillarmen and the vampire warhorse below deck as your family. You made an odd combination. Three man eating demigods, a forsaken sacrificial bride, and a carnivorous horse, but you couldn’t have wished for a better family looking back.

Thinking about family brought back the memory of your sister and her two girls. Your nieces. You had no way of telling what they were up to right now, or if they were okay. Your sister was a fighter, always had been, but it was one thing to keep herself standing as a widow in your village and another entirely to be all alone in the world.

The day seemed to drag by slowly and when the sun was high you had grown hungry. You locked the ship’s wheel in one position and headed over to the hatch that led down into the hold. Your husbands had created a den of sorts that bordered on a massive nest in the area that would have been designated for a crew to sleep in.

You had no cargo to move and no crew, so the hold was spacious enough that Aries could stand and walk around and your husbands could lounge around on the extra pillows and bedding like kings.

“Hungry?” Kars asked knowingly. You nodded and grinned when you noticed Esidisi holding a steaming pot with some kind of soup. For a second you worried he might burn his hands, but then you realized he was probably the reason that the pan was hot in the first place. Probably a good idea not to start fires inside a wooden cargo hold.

“I wanted to ask something,” you said between bites, scarfing down half the meal in record time. Your husbands didn’t eat very gracefully either, and putting it all in your mouth looked sort of odd to them whether you minded your table manners or not. “After we find the stone… Would you mind if I tried to seek out my sister and her children? By now you must be sure I won’t leave you and even if I can’t convince them to swear allegiance to you after what happened, I would like to see them again,” you asked, looking up shyly and waiting for a response.

“Hmm? You’ll be free to pursue whatever your heart desires once we have obtained the stone. Go wherever and do whatever you want, within reason,” Kars answered, returning his focus to a new stone mask he was carving.

“Within reason?” you asked. Your definitions of reason and reasonable had become incredibly flexible in recent weeks, given the invasion of vampires, marrying three gods, learning to fight vampires, walk on water, riding a hoofed demon to the end of the continent in pursuit of the roman emperor to steal a magic stone, etc.

“Avoid things like orgies or stealing humans, killing human monarchs unplanned, that sort of thing. Meeting with your sister isn’t counted among such things, obviously,” Esidisi said.

You almost choked on your food and snickered. “Oh, and I had such great plans!” you joked. “I just hope they’re okay… They’re the most precious humans in the world to me and I miss having them around…”

“They’re ours as well, dear (Y/N),” Wamuu said. “As far as humans go, they’re important to us as well, right after you of course.”

More so than even the meal, his words made you feel warm inside. To know that what was important to you was important to them was such a blessing.

“I’d like to have a larger family again,” Esidisi said cheerfully. “Say, do you think our family will continue to grow?” he asked, his gaze falling on your stomach and you took a solid five seconds to process the implications of that question.

You hadn’t even considered you might get pregnant. You hadn’t really thought much beyond the month you had been given on the night you got engaged, but obviously you were planning further ahead now.

You should probably not indulge that line of thinking before at least six hours of sleep, but the idea was in your head now. Could they get you pregnant? How long would that take given how long they lived? Would you be raising a child like them or would it be human? Would it have to live in darkness with them or would they be putting a stone mask on a baby? You had slept with all three of them, so would there be a way of telling whose child it was? Would that even matter? Was there a chance you were already with child?

“C-Can I even… We’re not exactly the same species, right?” you asked. “Lord Kars?”

If anyone would know it was him. Kars seemed to be as caught off guard by the question as you, looking up and staring almost blankly into space for a few moments, but then looked back down to his work, his brows pinched together as he tried to regain his focus. “No, you won’t,” he answered simply.

You’d been a little scared of the prospect at first, but somehow being told that it was impossible to bear any of your husbands’ children was worse.

“Why not?” Esidisi asked, pulling you into his lap. He felt hot all around you and you guessed this was another way in which his emotions showed.

“Is there nothing you could do to make it so?” Wamuu suggested, a tinge of hurt shining through in his own voice.

“Our species aren’t incompatible by any means. The child would be most similar to us, before we were changed by the stone masks, however -” Kars explained, casting a harsh look at them. “No child of either species responds well to blunt force trauma or extreme heat while it is in the womb. You can’t expect to father any offspring through battering and boiling her insides,” he scolded them, making the three of you flinch collectively.

“But if… uh… maybe…” you trailed off, unsure of what you were really asking.

“You’re in good health and if you don’t attempt anything more violent than what you have done so far, you’ll be able to bear as many children as you please when the time is right,” Kars assured you. “In the meantime, try to practice your hamon. It is the best way for you to endure mating and remain healthy. If you wish for a child, you shall have it, but by the stars don’t ask me to give you one right now,” he sighed, having too much to deal with already. You chuckled and nodded.

“I understand. Thank you, master,” you said, Esidisi dragging you onto his lap to cuddle. “Now would not be a good time for me to be pregnant. It might actually be better if it doesn’t happen until we’re in agreement it’s a good time.”

“The fact most humans don’t even consider that is the reason they’re such an invasive species,” Kars mumbled. “If we are forced to sleep I expect the population of humans will have grown tenfold across the globe, if not more,” he huffed.

“That many?” you asked. “There are already so many who starve and wars over territory…”

“And those will be even greater by then. Trust me, humans are more persistent than rats in that regard,” he said. You wanted to argue, but were unsure how. You couldn’t exactly disprove his claims, but it was hard to wrap your head around what he’d said. You’d seen so little of the world before and lived such a short life in comparison to them.

“Whether we sleep or find the stone, we’ll live long enough to see,” you decided eventually, figuring he’d either be right or you could tell him he’d been wrong later.

“If we find the stone and become gods I fully intend on culling the worst of the human population. Starting with its greedy oppressors and ending with each and every one who so much as looks at a dog wrong,” Kars muttered. It sounded harsh enough to make you flinch, but you couldn’t disagree with the types of humans he’d want to get rid of. Being a god it really was his call to make.

It was a strange process, coming to accept this, realizing there really was no one who could stop him or challenge his authority on who he was allowed to live. It was hard, but the more you got to know the three of them the more you trusted him to actually make that call.

Your people worshiped several gods who had done worse things than wipe out a single village that opposed them like yours had. If they did conquer the sun and decided they would decapitate the emperor before his senate, what else was there to be done, except bow to their wishes?

“I can’t help but notice, beloved, that you said we ,” Wamuu pointed out.

“If you’ll have me that long, I’m sure you’ll find a way for us to stay together,” you said with a small shrug. “I trust you.”

Those words brought smiles to their faces. It was a comfort to know you no longer feared them the way you had when you first presented yourself as their bride and you finally viewed yourself as being worthy of your status as their bride.

“You should get back on deck and adjust our course. The ship has been pulling north. After sunset we will take over and you’ll be free to sleep,” Kars said.

You groaned loudly and leaned back against Esidisi, who’s unnatural warmth was beckoning you to fall asleep for a while now.

“It’s an important job that only you can do,” he said, moving you from his lap, which felt like the height of treason. Would he also push a tired kitten off his lap?!

“Hmm, I know. I’m going. Maybe before becoming immortal, you should be mortals for a day. Just feeling tired and having headaches from not drinking enough water and inexplicable stomach gurgles from eating the wrong thing, like the rest of us,” you said, relishing in their expressions of absolute horror and disgust as you climbed the stairs.

“Maybe we’ll give you a stone mask and you can live hiding in a cave like the rest of us,” Kars yelled after you in retort, but you knew he wouldn’t.

“With my three husbands who can still go outside and 200 vampire servants? I’m in!” you called back jokingly, letting the hatch fall shut as a means of ending that debate.

You wouldn’t want to become a vampire, but if your husbands were going to be keeping you awake for two days straight while dragging you around a thousand miles, you might as well remind them the sun was the only part they were missing out on in the human experience.

You were so ready to sleep by the time the sun was setting you didn’t even speak to your husbands for the rest of the day. You were offered the captain’s quarters, but refused, choosing to sleep in the nest they had constructed in the hold. You thanked the stars you were apparently the kind of person to not experience sea-sickness easily, actually finding the rocking of the waves very soothing as you went to sleep.

It was almost dawn when you woke up, feeling infinitely better than you had the night before. You climbed out onto the deck after you had changed your clothes and fixed your hair, surprised to hear a faint sound of music.

Kars was laying back on the railing, plucking the strings on a lute with his eyes closed like he was Apollo himself. Wamuu was the one standing at the helm and Esidisi was seated at the opposing railing with a fishing line cast.

“I didn’t know you played music…” you said. Kars opened one eye and chuckled.

“These past millenia would have been awfully boring without it. There are many things you don’t know about us,” he said, while you leaned against the heavy wooden railing.

“Such as?” you asked, watching his fingers carefully dance along the strings in a playful melody.

“Esidisi is an excellent poet,” he offered, to which the fire god nearly jumped out of his skin.

“Don’t tell her that! In our language, yes! But certainly not in this one!” he complained.

“I could translate! Why don’t I tell her what you were saying while she slept before?” Kars said, smirking like the evil bastard he was.

“Do NOT tell her that!” Esidisi yelled, which only made you more curious.

“Lord Kars is especially fond of birds and dogs,” Wamuu interjected. “And he was the first to devise a compass, many centuries before humans thought to. Why don’t I show you how to read it while our masters coordinate their serenade?” he suggested, picking you up and taking you out of the crossfire that was about to ensue between his elders.

“An excellent idea, Wamuu. Esidisi, get over here!” Kars called out.

You felt a little bad for abandoning him, but your curiosity won out. Besides, you needed to learn how to navigate properly. He pointed out which stars in the sky to follow to your destination, how to read the compass and then went into which ropes held up which sails and when to lower or raise them. You’d have some serious calluses on your hands by the end of this trip, but you were still grateful to learn.

The lesson was interrupted when you noticed something had taken the bait on Esidisi’s fishing line.

“Were you fishing for me?” you asked curiously.

“You can have it if you’d like, but that wasn’t the main reason I wash fishing, beloved,” he answered, gutting the struggling fish that was about the length of his forearm. He dumped the blood and guts overboard and it expectedly drew some larger predators to the surface near the boat. A shark made the mistake of leaping out of the water and was promptly caught by your husband through the use of his extended veins.

“Aries! Dinner time!” he called out, hauling the shark onto the deck. Aries gracefully ran over and bit into the still struggling shark. You’d never heard the noise a shark made. You weren’t sure how to describe it, but it made some kinda noise as the horse consumed it whole, the entire ordeal accompanied by Kars’ upbeat strumming in the background.

Wamuu and Esidisi snickered at the shocked expression on your face as you began to sputter something about your horse devouring a shark. They ignored most of your indignation, you’d get used to it, and Esidisi asked if you would still like to have the fish before the sun came up.

You listened to Kars play for a little while longer at the top of the hatch as you ate and watched the sunrise. Esidisi recited some of his poetry at your request and Kars translated. It sounded beautiful the way he said and according to your master it meant something along the lines of how the blazing sun looked so gentle in your eyes and like the sun his love would burn eternally. You hid your grin behind your hands, blushing bright red at the explanation.

“He’s quite the romantic,” Kars chuckled, getting hit with a pillow by Esidisi, who looked so red that pillow might catch fire.

“Please return to the helm, if you would, my lovely flame? Lord Kars and I have something to discuss,” your second husband instructed, to which you nodded and ran off, giggling like a little girl.

If this was how the rest of your journey would go, you’d be alright.

For the most part it did. With little you could do in the lay of training and nothing else to occupy your time you found yourself with your three husbands vying for your attention throughout most of the nights. During the day you had taken to copying the scrolls detailing your people’s history, planning to leave the originals at the library of Alexandria when you arrived there.

You knew your husbands had noticed, but they hadn’t stopped you. Maybe they saw some value in preserving your people’s history and ways, or maybe it was just a small show of sympathy to you personally. It was reassuring to think the good things you had experienced with your people wouldn’t be lost forever and you could do them this small service.

You once told Esidisi maybe it was right for you to pass on as your people had. Maybe that was more fair. He’d called it survivor’s guilt and insisted you didn’t need to justify your survival, least of all to people that would have sent you to die, but the feel still gnawed vaguely inside of your chest.

Throughout the night it would be a contest for who got to have you to themselves. Kars liked to veto your attention whenever it looked like you weren’t busy, so you had to try to look busy with your first two husbands. It wasn’t all that hard, Esidisi was happy to let you touch his hair or cuddle, so was Wamuu but you would normally just sit in his lap or talk about animals.

You in turn had had your hair braided in all sorts of ways and would talk about flowers or animals that were only around during the daytime.

When Kars had you, he would have you read to him as you sat in his lap or as he read aloud one of Esidisi’s poems. Shamelessly stealing his partner’s thunder in that regard. Many of his scrolls were in languages that you couldn’t read and he would translate for you, so that you might learn some of the wisdom they had gathered over centuries.

At your master’s suggestion you had also taken to learning more intimate practices from them. Wamuu didn’t have much to contribute there except second hand knowledge. You were his first as he was yours.

Esidisi had more to add, and in a stolen moment of private time, he taught you the proper techniques of pleasing them, aided by your hamon breathing. It helped that he didn’t mind when you choked or the one time to actually gag and bit him. You could only marvel at his patience with you. Something both the other pillarman lacked as they disturbed you in several compromising positions repeatedly, at which point you threatened to get off and walk to shore come sunrise and finally you were allowed to finish.

They didn’t mention it directly, but Wamuu took great care to remind you he was always glad to help you ‘practice’ in any way.

You wrote down what you learned from them. The history of your people gaining a new chapter about the erotic arts that could be performed with hamon and the techniques to please your immortal lovers. Future generations might get some use out of them. You took care to keep these texts and illustrations separate though, as you didn’t want your history to end up burned and have your tribe labelled as obscene.

On the fifth night your husbands emerged after sundown and Kars perched himself on the bow of the ship without a word.

“What’s happened now..?” you asked worriedly. You could tell something was up, but it was safer to ask your companions first.

“The winds have not been in our favor this journey. We should have made it to Alexandria by now. It’ll be another day at least…” Wamuu explained. You knew this well, as you had been the one single handedly hoisting and lowering sails and steering the ship during the daytime. You could heal the blisters on your hands, but not the calluses that roughed up your palms and the pads of your fingers.

“The imperial vessel that departed from Rome will have travelled a different route and had a head start by a good 16 hours. It may have arrived already,” Esidisi agreed.

“He’ll be easier to find once we do reach our destination,” you tried to reassure them with a soft smile.

“We know, darling. It’s just that with what seems like the final leg of our journey approaching, we can’t help but grow restless,” Esidisi explained, flexing his fingers. “My joints are growing stiff. That’s always the first sign. The petrification of our flesh will set in about a week from now if we do not uncover the stone.”

The idea itself made you shudder. To slowly turn to stone while you were powerless to stop it.

“It won’t come to that,” you said with all the conviction you could muster. In the distance on the horizon you could see nothing, but Kars’ shifting gaze told you there were likely other ships and sandbank islands you passed.

“Your determination is admirable, dearest (Y/N). Thanks to you, we will soon have the stone at last,” Wamuu said, kissing your forehead.

Food was starting to run low on the ship too. You hadn’t really thought about it, but staying awake as much as you did had led to you eating more without even realizing it. You were also getting a slight cabin fever from sharing such close quarters. On the ship you were always within earshot, given their heightened senses and they never slept. Their presence didn’t make you feel anxious the way it once did, but a week without any sort of privacy was wearing you down.

“Maybe you could distract Kars from his worries a little while?” Esidisi suggested, kissing your cheek and taking over at the helm.

You approached the bow of the ship quietly, but Kars knew exactly where you were and what you and your other husbands had been saying.

“I don’t need your attempts at comforting me. I’ll be perfectly content once I have the stone…” he huffed once you were a few feet behind him, not bothering to look over his shoulder.

“Standing there won’t get us to Alexandria faster,” you pointed out.

“Neither will your creature comforts,” he responded, staring out across the dark ocean impassively. “I promise you, you will spend eternity in my arms as a goddess, but I can’t afford to lose my focus now,” he said, finally casting a look over his shoulder. “You should go take the antidote now. You have waited long enough. I don’t question your devotion.”

These words went through your chest more violently and painfully than having your wedding ring forced into your heart in the first place. Was he doubting himself? No, that was far too unlike Kars. He’d wanted you to keep the ring as a physical proof of his ownership of you, of your bond. You had plenty of other tokens now, but none as powerful as the one inside your heart. The one that would take your life in ten more days.

“I don’t need it,” you said, climbing the bow with him.

“Stop being petulant. There is no sense in carrying around poison in your heart.”

“Then why do you?!” you asked sharply, glaring at him. Before he could answer you jumped overboard. You couldn’t see the water’s surface, so you still ended up getting wet.

“What on earth are you doing?” Kars demanded.

“Helping!” you responded, grabbing a rope and focussing your energy as much as you could to solidify the water’s tension. You felt like Sisyphos pushing a boulder uphill, trying to pull the ship forward. Maybe it was fitting. A punishment for hubris thinking you knew better than a god. It kind of worked, much to your shock.

“(Y/N), stop this nonsense immediately!” Kars yelled, pulling at the other end of the rope to haul you back on board. You tried to keep pulling, but that tug of war game was never going to turn out in your favor and you ended back right where you started.

“I’m tired…” you complained, nearly in tears.

“Then go to sleep instead of wasting your energy trying to pull this ship like a stubborn mule!” Kars scolded.

“I’m tired of chasing that damned stone, Kars!” you clarified. “I know it’s important… That it’s the most important thing… It is to me too. How could it not be when it determines if we’ll have a future together, but… If we only have one month, I don’t want it to be dictated by the hunt for the red stone constantly… I want to be with you… I want us to be happy together in the time we have… I want you to look back and think of me fondly when I’m gone…”

Kars sputtered, expression flitting across his face in rapid succession, ranging from sorrow, sadness and pity, to pure unadulterated rage. He trapped you between his arms, gripping onto the railing of the ship so tightly it splintered in his grasp.

“I… love you… and I don’t fear dying as you do, but I fear eternity without you more than the sun itself…”

“Same difference,” you said, tears running down your cheeks. Gods, you hated arguing and arguing with Kars was the absolute worst. Why couldn’t you just scream and be angry? Why did you have to cry? “Death would be eternity without you. Of course I’m scared…”

“Which is precisely why we need the stone…” Kars hissed like you weren’t understanding. “I wouldn’t mind sleeping another thousand years. I’ve lived this long already! I could have gone to sleep after exterminating your wretched kin if you hadn’t made me love you, you naive beguiling witch…” he spat, the floorboards under his feet cracking as well now. “I can’t give you the life you deserve if I fail… One mistake and I’ll lose you forever… I already treasure you beyond what any poetry could describe. Don’t give me these tender moments to long for if I fail you…” he pleaded, and for the first time ever you heard his voice crack with grief and uncertainty.

You threw your arms around his neck and by now Wamuu and Esidisi had been hovering just behind you, ready to step in, but you waved them off.

With Santana Kars could be sure he was alive and safe somewhere. With you he didn’t have the same luxury.

“What did I just tell you not to do, you defiant little welp…?” he asked.

“I’m positive we both feel fucking awful and there are no fond memories to be made, so I can hold you as much as I want, you headstrong, ill tempered brute…” you answered, fisting a hand in his hair and standing on your tiptoes for a kiss. “You won’t fail me… Kars you are a god to me and I have absolute faith in you, no matter what…” you insisted.

He let out a long sigh, holding you against his chest.

“My glorious, foolish little sun… Come here...” he murmured. “I hadn’t intended to give you this so soon, but to know you have it would ease my mind greatly,” he said, bringing you back down into the hold with a lantern Esidisi had lit for you. “I have been working on this since the night you recovered the Aja your people had tried to keep from us,” he said, opening a box to reveal a small stone mask of smooth marble, with far more delicate features than the ones you had seen. At the center of the crown like headpiece across its forehead rested the Aja you had offered him so many nights ago. The mask was carved from the slab of marble he had ripped from the god’s throne in his rage.

“The stone is too small to be of any use to us, but you are smaller, more delicate, and your body is already receptive to the light of day,” he explained. “This mask shall grant you eternal life, without taking the sunlight from you or forcing you to feed on the life of others,” he explained, closing the box and putting it away. “The catch is that I haven’t tested it yet. Decidedly few human women have ever been subjected to the stone mask at all and the brain is a delicate organ,” he explained. “I wouldn’t wish for you to change. It is your kind and merciful nature that compelled me to fall for you. If you were made to be any less than the goddess you are right here and now it would be on par with killing you and I could never forgive myself,” he explained.

You could feel yourself trembling where you stood.

Kars was ruthless, cold and dare you say selfish in nearly all his endeavors. Yet here he offered you every single thing he had dreamt of for the tens of thousands of years he had been alive. The power he sought for himself, which he’d struggled, fought and killed for, and before it was even within his own grasp he was giving it to you.

“I love you,” you whispered, almost reverently. “And I trust you,” you assured him. “And when you’re ready I’m sure it will be perfect.”

It took a day longer than it should have to arrive in Alexandria, and the sun hadn’t set by the time you arrived. You couldn’t dock the boat alone and certainly not without arousing suspicion, so you lowered the sails and put an anchor out a mile or so out from the coast. Once the sun set you would walk to shore and deliver the scrolls to the library of Alexandria to preserve them and your husbands would find the emperor and claim the stone.

You would meet by the lighthouse come morning and with the stone they would become the pinnacle of creation.

“The time of ascension is almost upon us. Can you feel it, beloved?” Wamuu asked. He was in good spirits and it was a relief to see some glimmer of hope restored to them now that their goal was within reach.

“I can’t wait,” you agreed, gathering the scrolls you had dutifully copied.

“Once we conquer the sun, hamon will be of no consequence to us,” Kars said, watching you roll the parchment and stow them in a bag.

“Well then, maybe once you do, I’ll have something to teach you,” you offered. Kars startled by the idea and Esidisi and Wamuu laughed.

“I suppose that might be possible. Could you imagine, lord Kars? The three of us, hamon users! The fathers of the future hamon tribe!” Esidisi announced.

“Well, you’re not wrong. And I should like the future generations of hamon warriors to be raised to have some respect,” Kars agreed, planting a kiss on your lips. “The sun is setting, my shining dawn. When we meet again, the world will be at our feet,” he whispered. With a flourish he leapt from the hatch, diving into the water with barely a ripple to suggest it had been disturbed, as he shot like an arrow towards the shore.

Wamuu and Esidisi followed with the same divine grace and you led Aries to a small lifeboat, which you could easily pull towards the shore while walking on water. You could see the lighthouse where you would meet at the end of the night and felt a thrill of anticipation.

The library lacked any sort of formal guards, but you received some strange looks when you entered. You were dressed like a wealthy roman woman and they were never unaccompanied, but no one made an effort to stop you. All around scholars were lighting candles to continue pouring over their texts into the night and you knew right away you would be here all night as well, less you were dragged out.

“I have come to submit these pieces to the library,” you said softly to a man behind a desk once you saw him welcome a returning patron.

The man quirked a brow at you, but gestured for you to present what you had brought.

“Family history? Trade records? Poetry?” he asked, thankfully speaking in Latin as well.

“Transcripts on combat and historic records of a tribe that was recently vanquished by the wrath of gods,” you explained, using the most official sounding phrases you could come up with on the spot. The man’s mouth dropped open, but he clacked it shut just as quickly and started unrolling some of the scrolls you had brought.

“These… wouldn’t happen to be from the hamon tribe, would they?” he asked, eyes flying over the parchment as he spoke.

“Yes!” you said, glad he was taking an interest in them. At least you knew the scrolls would be in safe hands and your history would be preserved. Now that your husbands were about to claim the stone, the task had lost its urgency somewhat, but you were thankful to know you were not alone in saving the legacy of your people. News of their demise must have traveled faster than you realized if the scholars of Egypt already knew.

“I had someone… show in interest in such texts… just today…” the man said, plucking at his beard as he spoke and scanned the text. “I will go fetch someone to bring these into our collection officially. Please hold on to them while I do, my good lady,” he said, rushing off and leaving you alone with the scrolls. You tucked them back in your bag with a grin and started browsing different texts to pass the time. Most were in languages you didn’t know and even fewer were very interesting, but in a collection of this size that made sense. You knew you’d spend more time browsing than actually reading, but if you would actually be reading, but if you would soon have eternity to wander around whatever library you pleased, it didn’t matter.

You felt a tap on your shoulder and turned around expecting the old scholar, but who you saw instead nearly had you leaping into the shelf with a loud yelp. Standing there with her beaming smile that crinkled the corners of her eyes and dimpled her cheeks was your older sister. With another cry of joy and relief you fell into her arms, hugging her with a vice like grip.

You’d feared you’d never see her again. Of all the people in your tribe, she and her daughters were the only ones whom you missed and longed for every single day. You’d prayed for her safety to your godly husbands and whatever ethereal gods might still reside in the skies above, and your prayers were answered!

Now as everything was about to fall into place, fate had brought you back together!

“Oh, my sweet mayflower…” she whispered, cupping your cheek and wiping away tears of joy, even as she began to cry as well. “I’ve been so scared for you… I never should have let them send you away. I never… Oh, but you survived and I’m so glad I get to see you again!” she whispered. “And you saved us… That brute who came to…” she sobbed, wiping her face of tears. You couldn’t help but laugh. Clearly your sister would need some time to get used to her new in-laws.

“When he had us exiled, a few others knew something was off… We’re not alone, sweetheart,” she said, proudly hauling the bag of scrolls over her shoulder and taking your hands.

“W-Wait, what? There’s more who survived?” you asked, the implications of that not yet sinking in through the veil of elation. Whatever made your sister happy would make you happy and Kars did say hamon would soon be nothing to them. You might really have it all now. Both halves of your family forever, you thought until the overjoyed smile your sister wore perked into a full on smirk.

“Quite a few! We warned the emperor before he departed when someone saw you questioning jewelers in the capital,” she laughed, pulling you closer into a hug once more. “Those wretched creatures will never have their stone. Come on, (Y/N). Time to go home to our tribe!”

#JJBA #JoJo's Bizarre Adventure #jojo's bizzare adventure x reader #jjba wamuu #wamuu x reader #kars jojo #kars x reader #esidisi #esidisi x reader #sfw #chapter 4

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carllisle · 3 years

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I audibly gasped at "I hc that her first human kill was a child" omfg you're so mean 😭😭😭😭

Don't get me wrong the story potential is 👏👏✨👌✨ & I'd read it but at the same time 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

im glad you brought that up cause i been DYING to talk about it 👌

Here’s an edited extract from This New Life. Esme’s first human kill was a young child. Content warning for blood and suicide ideation.

----------------------

Edward returned to the house not long after Carlisle left, shaking the snow from his hair on the back porch and removing his dirty boots outside the back door. Esme was still in the sitting room but now in the chair Carlisle had occupied for a short while, as content as the other had left her. He could feel the happiness in her thoughts and it warmed him. Hopefully, this would cheer her even further.

“There’s a large pack of wolves not far from here, Esme,” he called out to her as he hung up his coat on the stand in the hallway. Ice melted in the warmth of the house from his trousers and began dripping on the wood floorboards, and he heard her make a mental note to see to it soon. “Come with me, let’s hunt!”

I’m not sure.

“I’ll race you.”

It’s not as fun now you always win.

He smiled at the humour he felt in her thoughts. “Not always!” Edward protested, although she was almost right. Newborn strength waned in her, and now more often than not he ended up outstripping her, but she was right in that the winning was less sweet when the challenge was less great. “You need to feed.”

I know. There was a tinge of sadness to her thoughts now, and guilt. They had been through this before.

Edward sighed as he combed his hair in the mirror in the hallway. It was a struggle to get it to lie flat after such a fast run. “It’s not as simple as that,” he reminded her kindly. “It takes time, not practice, to need to hunt less. Your needs are changing, and try as you might, that is not something you can control.”

It took less than a second for him to appear in the sitting room, and the speed of his arrival made Esme’s hair lift in the little breeze created. She smiled nonchalantly at him.

“Please be kinder to yourself,” he added. He leaned against a bookshelf close to her. “Come hunt with me. You’ve never tasted wolf, and change is good.”

I’m not sure…

“Please?”

And he looked at her with such angelic eyes, dark though they were, and Esme could not refuse. She was quickly learning that she would refuse Edward practically nothing, especially if it brought her his smile. He heard her thoughts and smiled now, so brightly it could eclipse the sun. “You have me wrapped around your little finger, do you know that?” she laughed in defeat.

Edward grinned and held out his pinky, stretching it towards her. Shaking her head slightly, laughing again, Esme linked hers with his and they shook in a silent promise. “As you’re around mine, Esme.”

It took only moments for Esme to change into clothes that were old and plain and that she could afford to lose should any wolves fight back, and there was a part of her that was excited for it. Never one for violence, it had surprised her how much she enjoyed the hunt. One day Edward had caught on to this thought, and together with Carlisle explained that it was just a side effect of her new biology and wasn’t a reflection of a fundamental change in character. After that, Esme had just accepted it.

Trees and ferns and the ungrowth rushed past them as they flew across the forest side by side, and Edward began weaving in a wider path around them. Esme laughed as his joy at the run infected her too, and he instinctively mirrored her when suddenly she changed course and dug her fingers into the thick trunk of a tree. Faster than sound she leaped up it, and then just as suddenly she flung herself to the next tree, and then the next, and the next and the next, until she was soaring from branch to branch and sending snow drifts cascading to the floor in her path. Suddenly they caught a fresh trail of wolf scent and Esme dropped to the floor and sprang forward silently. Edward followed suit. They were still a few miles off, they couldn’t hear the thudding of predator heartbeats yet, but the focus of the hunt set in.

Letting the hot, wet scent pull them forwards was easy. Already, Esme could feel venom fill her mouth, and red crept into the corners of her vision, and her throat was aflame. At her side, she kept Edward in sight, her senses reminding her that on a hunt he was a threat. Whenever he crept too close in her path, she couldn’t bite back snarls and he always heeded them.

A mile away, and Esme could hear the pounding blood in the large pack. Her lips pulled back over her teeth, a hiss escaping her in anticipation. In response to the temptation, her body tensed like a coil and she held it back for as long as she could. Edward and Carlisle had tried to teach her to hunt with control, and she tried hard now to hold back, but she wasn’t strong enough. Like an explosion, the tension within her was released. She was wild, excited and hungry and suddenly so desperate to sink her teeth into flesh that she couldn’t control where her legs took her. Half a mile.

The woods thinned out and she could see where the pack rested in a clearing. Twelve grown wolves, a handful of younger ones, blacks and greys and browns. Esme couldn’t believe her luck. She left Edward to approach from the east, and she circled around, meaning to come at them from the north. Not that they stood a chance against either of the vampires, but it kept Esme away from Edward enough to feel safe when she feasted.

Edward’s cry of “No!” came out a moment before the wind changed. The western wind fanned over her face, and her feet changed course. A scent sweeter and richer than anything else she smelled before called to her like a song, and with it, the world disappeared. It felt heavenly, to be pulled across the earth towards it. Esme went gladly, and within seconds, two heartbeats sounded in her ears. Human. The smell was growing stronger with every step. Not once did it even cross her mind to stop. Why should she stop? This was why she was created. For this very moment.

“You need to be more careful!” a man’s hushed voice scolded, followed by the scrape of metal. “We’ll need to clean that cut before dirt gets into it. That’s how your grandfather lost his hand, is that what you want to happen to you? To become One Hand Henry?”

Esme saw them from a distance, and as fast as she could she came before them. The young boy, no more than nine or ten, was laughing in response to the question, and waving his bloody palm towards him. The man looked exasperated, but he didn’t want to ruin their fun.

“Esme!” came Edward’s ear-splitting roar not far behind. “Don’t!”

She barely heard it. Even when he had caught her in his arms and locked tight around her, she easily freed herself from steel. The boy didn’t feel any pain. Not with how quickly she grabbed him and crushed his throat against her lips. The little body was drained quickly. Never had Esme felt relief like it. She tasted the sacrament on her tongue, savouring the bliss, the way it made her body and soul sing. She was glad to be alive.

What little blood he gave her could not slake her need, and she caught up with the man shortly after. His distraught face flashed across her eyes, his sobs and cries for his boy echoing in her ears, but he didn’t have to suffer for long. One gentle squeeze of her fist and his skull cracked, her fingers sinking into the softness underneath, and life was gone from him quicker than he could have ever felt. His blood was good, but it was nothing on the divinity of his son. Still, it filled her and satisfied her. Finally she had slaked the thirst.

-----

When the world began coming back to her, Esme couldn’t have guessed how long she had been standing frozen. It returned slowly, the red and white haze that had blanketed her in bliss fading first at the corners, and then making their way inwards. At first, she was aware of Edward standing guard over her in a tree a short distance away. Then the sweet aroma of blood finer than any animal she had smelled washed over her. Turning her head this way and that to find the source, she realised it was on her. She licked her lips and tasted it drying there. One flex of her fingers and she knew it caked her arms and body.

“Where are the wolves?” When she drew in breath, for the first time in this life, her throat did not burn. She was soothed. She felt strong. But it was wrong.

“Gone.” He sounded wary above her.

“Is this what wolf blood tastes like?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

“Esme?”

She broke her frozen stance and looked up at him, eyes wide. Don’t say. Please don’t say it.

His own gaze was agonised. “I’m sorry.”

The taste of the boy was still in her mouth. His father’s bone clung to her hair. A violent scream tore itself from her, and the sound of ripping metal echoed when she dragged her nails down her face. Tearless sobs filled the air, and Edward was frightened.

I want to die.

“Esme-”

Her scream was piercing, shattering, tearing through the quiet forest. “I want to die!”

#pandabooraccoon #ask #ellie writes #this new life #no one: me: I WROTE A FIC #me @ me shut up #esme #edward

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johannstutt413 · 3 years

Text

(requested by calligomiles)

“Why do you think they split Guard and Vanguard into two roles?” Zima asked Istina as they went to sit down for lunch. “All the others are fairly well-defined, but the only difference I’ve found between Vanguards and Guards is when they join a battle. Couldn’t they just be two parts of the same role, like the fast-deployers and the push/pullers?”

“I think it’s a matter of symmetry; eight is a nice round number, and you can easily split it up several different ways...Hey, Sonya, who’s that sitting at our table?”

The General focused her eyes on the offending Feline for a moment before going into a full glare. “I don’t know, but she’s got some nerve taking our spot. Wait here; I’ll deal with her.”

“You don’t have to just-” She was already storming forward. “Right. I forgot for a moment who I was talking to.”

“Hey. You’re in our spot.” Zima rolled up to Swire in a fightin’ mood.

All that managed to rouse from her was a smug smile. “I’m sitting here right now, though. There’s enough space for all three of us, isn’t there?”

“...Fine.” Something about that smile defused her argument, but not her attitude. “Hey, An- Where the hell did she run off to?”

“I didn’t see. She can find us then she comes back, though, can’t she?” The money-cat plucked a potsticker from her plate and dipped it a couple times in a small cup of chili paste.

The Ursus sighed and sat right next to her. “Probably. Might’ve gotten scared off by you. I didn’t know they were serving dumplings today.”

“Hmm? Oh, no, these are mine. Made them myself.” Swire plucked one off her plate. “Want one?”

“Yeah, but not one you’ve touched with those.”

She scoffed. “What, you want to stab one with a fork instead? Then the broth will run out.”

“Wait, you put broth IN your dumplings?” Zima also saw the pan-searing. “And you burnt half of them but didn’t cook the other side?”

“Look, if you’re going to be such a critic, you should just try one already.” The Feline scooted her chair a little closer so she could properly deliver the potsticker.

The General sighed. “Fine, but I don’t wh- hrm! Hrm...Mmm. These are good.”

“See? You sear the one part so you get a bit of crispy, but the rest of it is soft and kinda gooey, so you get the different textures together. Makes sense, right?” She chuckled when the Ursus’ eyes flashed back to the potstickers and not her own plate. “Hey, I said I’d let you try one, not finish my lunch for me.”

“Yeah, you did. What’s your name? I don’t think we’ve met.” Zima offered a hand to shake.

Would you look at that? This girl did have manners somewhere in there - hell, better than Chen’s, maybe. “Operator Swire, working with Rhodes Island on loan from the LGD- what’s with that look?”

“Nothing.” Flashbacks to fighting Reunion in the streets of Lungmen blended into memories of Peterheim in the blink of an eye. “Operator Zima, General of the Ursus Student Self-Governance Group. Can you make me some of these sometime?”

“Just you? What about your friend?”

Sonya rolled her eyes. “Do I look like the kind of girl who wants to share?” [was tempted to just link to the Zima tag of the archive...she’s shared a lot more than food historically]

“Well, I do have some leftovers in my fridge still.” Swire flashed her a disarming smile. “We could share those if you’re free for dinner.”

“...Sure, I guess.” Cha-ching!

The Feline’s mission accomplished, she looked back at her plate. “I guess I could spare a second one.”

“You can?” Her eyes lit up for a moment before she reined herself back in. “I’ll take it.”

“It’s nice to meet someone who can appreciate the finer things in life.” Swire popped the next potsticker in her mouth.

The General’s eyes followed said potsticker as a plan began to form. “There’s a game people play where they split food between them; do you know what I’m talking about?”

“I think it has to be something long, though. Oh!” She opened her thermos and, using the same chopsticks, revealed a long noodle. “Something like this.”

“That works. Winner gets the rest of the dumplings.”

Her eyes sparkled mischievously. “I think I can afford that wager. You know you’ll lose, right?”

“We’ll see about that.” Zima watched as Swire held the noodle between them so they could each take an end. “Three.” She set it between her teeth.

“Two.” The Feline did the same.

There was no ‘one’; in fact, there wasn’t even really a fight for the noodle, as once they were close enough, they simultaneously bit down and swallowed their half before continuing to close the gap anyway.

From her vantage point with Hoshiguma a few tables away, Istina sighed contentedly. “As expected, they get along rather well. Thank you for your assistance.”

“Anything to get that cat out of Ch’en’s hair,” the Oni replied, popping the top on a beer bottle with her thumb and sliding it to the Ursus. “Here; on the house.”

“Do you normally give alcohol to middle schoolers off-duty, Officer Hoshiguma?”

Hoshi gave her a wink. “Only if they’re Ursans.”

“...Fair enough.” The adviser held it out to her. “Cheers to a job well done.”

“To a job well done.” They clinked bottles before racing each other to the bottom. Who won?

In the end, didn’t they all?

#arknights #arknights fic #swire (arknights)#zima (arknights)#every single person needs a good wingman #at least that's what i think

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yamisnuffles · 4 years

Text

Blitzed

On the night a church is bombed and books are saved, Aziraphale gives in to what he wants. Crowley can't understand it but is more than willing to follow wherever the angel will lead him.

Rated E. Read on Ao3

Based on my art.

- - - - - -

Crowley was deeply familiar with pain. Every demon was baptized in that sulfur pit, their former grace a smouldering ruin. There were myriad other examples each and every one of the Fallen could list, bother utterly merciless and utterly mundane. Crowley had gotten used to most of it. He was up on Earth and free as he could hope to be, barring some unforeseen miracle. Could maybe be a little better off but that would require him to be without his own very unique brand of suffering. A near century long nap had taken some of the edge off hard denial. Off fraternizing .

The problem was, as familiar as he might be with pain, he wasn’t the best at handling it. That was why he’d added a fresh layer in the form of charred feet. It was why he was talking too much. He tended to do that, he knew. Unfortunately, knowledge of a problem didn’t magically cure it. If it did, his life would be much easier and he wouldn’t be rattling on about decades he knew nothing about firsthand because he’d been asleep and Aziraphale couldn’t know he’d been asleep. If the angel noticed he was bullshitting, he didn’t let on. Didn’t really let on to anything. He’d been about silent since Crowley handed over the books and currently looked a bit like he might be sick as he clung to those same books.

Were the books a mistake? Probably a mistake. A step too far. He was always overstepping and ending up with his foot in his mouth. Or his… everything in that pit of boiling sulfur. And so he talked to stop from thinking, even if Aziraphale wasn’t listening. Especially if Aziraphale wasn’t listening.

He very nearly sent up a prayer when they reached the bookshop at last. Instead he said, “Here we are.”

Aziraphale still didn’t say a word. Crowley dared a proper, straight on look rather than the surreptitious side-eye he’d been giving. Just above a powder blue shirt collar was a pulse that looked to be going faster than the Bentley had a moment before. Neat fingers gripped the handle of the case of books like Aziraphale was afraid he’d fall right off the face of the planet if he let go. Wide, mirror eyes reflected what little light there was in that bomb filled night and then were hidden behind fluttering lashes. Then, with no warning or obvious cause, Aziraphale stilled completely. Closed eyes. Not a single breath.

When he finally moved again it was to just about throw himself bodily from the car. Crowley made a more measured exit. His eyes were glued on Aziraphale’s every hurried step and a good thing, because the angel nearly fell on his face tripping over the curb. Wouldn’t have been nearly at all if Crowley hadn’t caught him.

Worry overcame his usual restraint and he held firm to Aziraphale’s shoulders. He dipped his head so that he could look Aziraphale in the eyes. “Are you alright?” One thunderous beat of his heart and Crowley pushed further. “I can stay. If you need me to. Want me.”

Aziraphale started doing that rapid blinking thing. Something too complicated passed over his face and was replaced by surety before Crowley had a chance of understanding it.

“Yes. Yes, I think you should stay.”

Crowley’s heart drummed again. When Aziraphale turned, smiled, Crowley forgot all about the need to breathe, the pain in his feet, anything that wasn’t a smile so bright it felt deadly in the middle of a blitz. This close he could smell hints of the near century between them. There was a new cologne and old books, life during a war and peace in the back of a musty old shop. Crowley wondered if he still fit in somewhere amongst all that. He was frozen in that moment, pondering, until he realized the thing grounding him there was the solid weight of Aziraphale against his palms. He quickly removed his hands and shoved them deep into his pockets.

“After you,” he said with a nod toward the door.

“Right, of course. Silly me. I should unlock that, shouldn’t I?”

Aziraphale finally broke eye contact and Crowley felt like he could finally breathe again. He shuffled a careful distance behind. He slipped inside as smoothly as he could given the pain of each step. The moment he was able, he leaned against a wall and tried to arrange himself in a way that surreptitiously took pressure off his feet.

Aziraphale locked the doors and, just like that, the world outside ceased to exist beyond the blacked out windows. Lights in the back of the shop sprang to life with a snap. Apparently no miracle was frivolous in a time like this. Or maybe Aziraphale had stopped caring so very much. Crowley wished he’d been around to find out which.

“Would you care for some wine?” Aziraphale asked, already winding back through the shelves. “I for one could use a good drink after tonight. I have a lovely Cheval Blanc that I’ve been saving.”

“Don’t open it on my account. Can’t imagine it will be easy to get a replacement anytime soon.”

Aziraphale clicked his tongue. “Don’t be ridiculous. I haven’t seen you in nearly a century. I think this is as good an occasion as I’ll get. Besides, I don’t know about you, but I could use an excuse. I’ve had few enough recently.”

“Well then,” Crowley said, “don’t let me stop you. Demon. Meant to inspire you to indulgence.”

Aziraphale bit the inside of his cheek and gave a smile that strained to be bigger regardless of his best efforts against it. “It’s settled then.”

He puttered off, deeper into the shop, and Crowley was pulled inexorably after. It felt like walking through a dream to be back in the shop with Aziraphale happily chattering away about everything that he’d been up to in the last seventy odd years. How many times had Crowley had that very dream? And yet not a one of them matched up to the reality. He never could have guessed how it would feel to step back into a life so changed. Yes, the world at large was different and he was glad to have woken up with time to figure it all out. The thing, though, that got him was how his memory matched up to the current reality of the shop.

There were new books. New furniture. But it was all only new to him. There was love written into well handled texts. Chair cushions showed where Aziraphale had sat countless times over years, if not decades. It was all thoroughly lived in and every minute of that life devoid of Crowley, all because of a stupid argument and an even stupider decision to sleep his despair off, as though it was something to be quickly gotten rid of.

Aziraphale hadn’t settled into any of his well loved furniture nor had he retrieved the bottle of wine. Instead he was floating about, putting his books of prophecy down one place only to immediately pick them back up and put them somewhere else. Crowley flopped down into the corner of a leather sofa and watched as the angel flitted to and fro.

“Are you hot?” Aziraphale asked. “It seems rather a bit too hot in here.”

Putting words to action, he immediately stripped off his coat and tossed it on the couch next to Crowley. His hat followed soon after. Crowley tried not to think too much about that golden banded halo, so thoughtlessly discarded. Instead he let his eyes flick over to the coat rack and then back to the angel who was currently toeing off his shoes. At this rate, he’d be down to nothing in a minute or two. Crowley swallowed over his increasingly dry mouth.

“Are you sure you’re alright, angel?”

Aziraphale stopped, fingers on the buttons to his waistcoat. “Yes. Absolutely fine. Finer than a frog's hair split five ways.”

“Finer than…? Do frogs have hair?” Crowley shook his head. He took off his hat and placed it delicately next to Aziraphale’s and then pushed out of his seat. His feet screamed at being used again but he grit his teeth and ignored them. He put a hand on Aziraphale’s wrist. “Just stop for a second, would you?”

And he did. When he looked at Crowley, the blue of his eyes had gone grey under a furrowed brow. He stilled completely for a moment and then reached up to take the sunglasses from Crowley’s face. He folded them, gently opened Crowley’s coat, and placed them in a pocket there. His hands lingered on the lining and moved up to the lapels where they stayed.

Crowley’s feet could have caught on fire in that moment and it wouldn’t have been enough to get him to move. His tongue darted out to wet his lips. When he saw Aziraphale track that movement, his breath was aborted in his throat and he was fairly certain he blacked out for a moment. When his brain started again, words tumbled out too fast to stop.

“Are you- What is- You seem like… Was it the thing about the frogs? I know frogs have- don’t have- hair. You know what, maybe I should just leave. Survived one bomb tonight and so I’m feeling pretty good about my chances out there.”

“Crowley?”

“Yes?”

“Please shut up for a moment, would you?”

“Yep. Shutting up. Now.”

The moment Crowley shut his lips he found them covered by Aziraphale’s. The first thing he thought was that he couldn’t believe he had Aziraphale’s lips on his own. The second was that there was a word for that and that word was kiss. He was kissing Aziraphale. Or, at least, Aziraphale was kissing him. Finally came the thought that he really ought to be kissing Aziraphale back. Like many of his best thoughts, it came too late.

Aziraphale released Crowley’s lapels and broke away. “I’m sorry, Crowley. I shouldn’t have presumed. It’s only that, with my books…”

Crowley let one of his incisors dig deep enough into his lip to draw blood. “Was that all that was? Some way to thank me for the sodding books?”

Aziraphale’s eyes widened. “No. Of course not. I only realized, well I’ve felt it for so long that I’d almost stopped noticing, but tonight confirmed it.” Those lips that had so recently been pressed together in a kiss, curled up into a beatific smile. “You lo-”

Crowley swallowed the rest of the word with a kiss. He couldn’t hear those three words, not said for him and certainly not if Aziraphale wasn’t going to say them back. For an excruciating moment, he thought Aziraphale wasn’t going to kiss him back now that he’d had time to think better of it. That moment fell away when the angel sank into it with a small, sweet whine. Crowley tried to focus on that, on the noises he could draw out and the taste of ethereal lips, instead of anything that might have been said or wouldn’t ever be said.

With his wits about him this time, he was able to appreciate just how blessedly soft everything about Aziraphale was. His lips were pliant. His stomach and thighs filled in every bony gap Crowley had. Then there was the worn velvet of his waistcoat under one hand and a cloud of curls under the other and Crowley gripped both as tight as he dared. Some foggy corner of his brain wondered if he pressed himself close enough if he could lose himself entirely in Aziraphale. Only way to find out, he supposed, was to try.

He pressed his tongue to the seam of Aziraphale’s lips and was granted entry with a soft moan that grew louder as he roved ever deeper. He was suddenly glad they’d skipped the wine because now all he could taste was Aziraphale and it was the only thing he wanted to taste for the rest of his innumerable days. He pressed tongue to tongue and licked along even teeth. He was too intoxicated by it all to realize that his own heady, hungry sounds were being added to the chorus.

Crowley could never have imagined he’d want more but there was so much more of Aziraphale and he wanted it all. He kissed along the gentle curve of an angelic jaw. He nipped, testing, at an earlobe and licked down, over tendon, thrumming pulse, and to the small peak of his Adam’s apple. He let his tongue fork slightly over that charming colloquial, just enough to savor the irony and cause Aziraphale to let out a needy whine. Or maybe it had been Crowley himself. He was no longer particularly interested in finding that line where one of them ended and the other began.

Nor, it would appear, was Aziraphale. He all but ripped off Crowley’s jacket and cast it aside before fumbling with his tie. While Azirphale went high, Crowley went low. Aziraphale himself had already done away with his waistcoat while Crowley was occupied elsewhere, so it was a simple task to unclasp braces and flick open the button to his trousers. They fell into a pile around Aziraphale’s ankles. Crowley worried it was too much— he was too much— and yet, for all his softness elsewhere, Aziraphale was half hard already and rolling his hips in search of friction. Of Crowley.

Crowley gripped the flesh and tugged Aziraphale closer. Head to head and mouth to ear, he asked, “Tell me, what do you want, Aziraphale?”

Aziraphale dug his fingers into short cropped hair and tugged so that they were looking each other in the eyes. This close there was no mistaking how much black had overtaken stormy blue. “You.”

That one word shuddered through Crowley and undid millennia of hedging and denial.

“Fuck.”

Breath ragged, he surged forward to close what scant distance remained between them. He could feel desire rolling off Aziraphale in waves and he wanted to drown in it. Instead of letting it wash over him, he lapped up every bit. It wasn’t pretty. Noses bumped and teeth clashed. It was frenetic and sweaty. It was, in a word, perfect. That should have been Crowley’s first sign that it all was gonna go to shit.

In the midst of all that twining of tongues and limbs, Aziraphale stepped onto Crowley’s foot. Not hard. Not the sort of thing he would have noticed any other time but this time, when he had a cock pressed against his stomach, this time of course he had scorched feet. He jolted and hissed in pain. He bit his tongue, hoping his pain somehow had gone unnoticed. It hadn’t. Of course it hadn’t.

Aziraphale stilled and stepped back. “Sorry. Clumsy of me to step on-” His eyes widened in horrified understanding. “Oh! Your feet! Why didn’t you say anything? How could I forget?”

“It’s fine. Just… twinged a bit when you stepped on them.”

Aziraphale paced in place, over one step and back, as though he didn’t have his cock out. Crowley was tempted to grab it and make him forget all about his stupid, bloody, inconsiderate feet.

He realized he hadn’t taken the time to appreciate it. Appreciate any of it. He’d always imagined, when he’d dared, taking things slow and relishing every article of clothing removed. Instead, he barely remembered half of it. He felt certain he would have remembered stripping away Aziraphale’s boxers and yet, there they were, in a pile on the rug with his trousers. He was caught staring at them when Aziraphale stopped fluttering about like a very fussy butterfly.

“Come here,” Aziraphale said.

The Principality didn’t wait for a reply. He put one arm behind Crowley’s knees, the other behind his shoulders, and lifted him as though he was nothing. Crowley flailed in surprise.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to take care of your feet.”

“ Now ? We were sort of in the middle of something.”

“That can wait.”

“It can-” Crowley sputtered, losing the war for words in the haze of his lust addled brain. “I think your dick, which is poking me in the back right now, by the way, would argue otherwise.”

Aziraphale ignored him and carried him across the room, back to the couch. He was gently deposited on top of some of their discarded clothing. “Stay there,” Aziraphale said.

“Stay- where are you going?”

“I need to retrieve a few things.” Aziraphale only made it a step before he came back to prop Crowley’s feet on a chair. “There. Stay right there.”

There was a small edge of divine command that Crowley was certain Aziraphale hadn’t intended but which made the skin on the back of his neck tingle. It also triggered that part of him that very much wanted to disobey every firmly given order. Had it come from anyone other than Aziraphale, he probably would have, no matter the damage to his own feet in the process. So he crossed his arms and had a good sulk. He tracked Aziraphale’s movements by the tremendous amount of noise he made, first turning his kitchenette upside down and then crashing through his flat upstairs.

Aziraphale returned with an assortment of fluffy towels over one arm and a large ceramic bowl held out before him. The bowl was placed on the ground with enough care that the water within it barely rippled. The largest of the towels was spread out next to it, and then Aziraphale lifted Crowley’s feet and moved the chair they’d been resting on aside.

Crowley watched it all unfold, strangely transfixed, until Aziraphale started to untie his shoes. “I can take those off myself, you know.”

“Nonsense. They need to be removed with care. Your socks as well.”

“Aziraphale-”

“Crowley.” Aziraphale’s voice was sharp but it softened right along with his expression. “Let me take care of you. Please.”

“Hrnngf.”

Aziraphale rightly took that as assent. Crowley could hardly watch him but he also couldn’t look away. An angel was kneeling at a demon’s feet. An angel with a flagging but still very much present erection, without a stitch on below the waist beyond a ridiculous pair of tartan socks and even more ridiculous garters to hold them up, and pale skin marked by the drag of blunt nails. And somehow that was all nothing next to the gentle curl of kiss stained lips or eyes that sparkled with something private and warm and liable to kill Crowley on the spot if he looked too deep.

Luckily there was pain to distract him, a far more familiar distraction than... whatever that had been with Aziraphale not long ago. Or was going to be before his traitor feet had interrupted. He was tempted to spend the rest of eternity as a snake just to spite them for their impudence.

“Sorry,” Aziraphale said when a hiss escaped from between Crowley’s clenched teeth.

“It’s nothing.”

No matter how easily the lie came to Crowley, the sibilance of it gave him away. Probably Aziraphale would have known anyway. He pursed his lips as he slowly rolled up the bottom hems of Crowley’s trousers.

“The shoes were the easy bit, I’m afraid.” His hands were on Crowley’s ankle, the thumbs rubbing gently over the bone. “Perhaps I should get that wine after all. To help with the pain.”

“Just get it over with, angel.”

Aziraphale nodded and peeled off the first sock. The fabric clung to Crowley’s raw sole. He clenched his teeth until he heard them creak in his jaw. Once one foot was bared, it was lowered delicately into the basin of cool water and Aziraphale was on to the next foot. Crowley sighed at the immediate relief the water brought.

“Better?”

“Yeah. Erm, thanks.”

Aziraphale fiddled with the rolled trousers, though the hems were in no danger of getting wet. “I suppose you already tried to heal them yourself?”

“Yeah. Think something about the consecrated ground. Divine retribution or some such. Can’t fix it with a demonic miracle.”

“Right. So I thought.” Crowley shivered as Aziraphale ran thoughtless fingers under the water and to the edge of wounded flesh. “Do you mind if I try?”

“Sure. What’s the worst that can happen?”

The water could, he suppose, get accidentally blessed and reduce him to a steaming pile of nothing goo. Not that he would say that. He didn’t think Aziraphale would appreciate the visual. Aziraphale must have had a similar idea because he pulled Crowley’s feet out of the water and went so far as to push the bowl aside.

Hands once more gingerly cradling Crowley’s ankles, Aziraphale closed his eyes. The miracle probed gently, slower and more tentative than Aziraphale usually worked. His miracles always left a taste something like honey and paprika on Crowley’s tongue, sweet with enough of a kick to make things interesting.

“There now, that’s better.”

Aziraphale kept his hold on Crowley’s legs but lifted one so that Crowley could get a better look. The soles were the bright, slightly dewy pink of new skin.

“They’ll still be tender for awhile, I’m afraid, but your trespass has been forgiven,” Aziraphale said with a chuckle to punctuate.

Even knowing it was meant in jest, there was a squirming in Crowley’s chest that he didn’t care to examine. He wriggled in his seat but that movement only served to tighten Aziraphale’s grip on him.

Crowley frowned. “Gonna keep me here forever?”

“I don’t think,” Aziraphale said slowly, rubbing circles over protruding ankle bones and working his way up to Crowley’s calves, “that I’m quite done taking care of you. If that’s alright with you, that is.”

“Hrnf. It’s whatever.”

Aziraphale shifted his grip so that he had more freedom to move. If Crowley cursed moving too fast to savor things earlier, he’d changed his tune. Aziraphale was looking at him like a buffet and Crowley felt a mix of awe and terror at being on the menu. He held his hands aloft, not sure where to settle them. Yes, Aziraphale had his nose pressed somewhere just east of his cock but he couldn’t put his hands on him. So he started with his fingers digging into his own scalp and stiffly moved to drape arms over the back of the couch in a show of false bravado.

He wanted to protest. No, he didn’t want to do any such thing but he felt like he should protest. Should at least want to protest. There was Aziraphale, bent in reverent supplication and handling him like the most cherished thing in the world. No matter what he did, he made sure to hold Crowley’s legs in a comfortable position, his feet never so much as whispering over the carpet below. He kissed over the exposed edge of sharp hips, up along lean sides, and then down. Every press of his lips was a benediction that only burned for the rush of blood that followed.

With his hands occupied, Aziraphale was forced to use his mouth to do everything. When meandering progress brought him back to Crowley’s now rather tight trousers, Crowley moved a hand to intercede.

“If you’re going to be so precious about my feet, at least let me get that,” he said, waving at his fly.

“Don’t you trust that I have everything well in hand?” Aziraphale asked. “Or, I suppose I should say, in mouth.”

And then, as though it was just the kind of thing he did all the time, Aziraphale used his teeth to undo the straining button and caught the zipper pull between his teeth. He slowly dragged it down, all the while maintaining eye contact with Crowley. That was the nail in Crowley’s proverbial coffin. He let out a fully undignified keen, the pitiful pitch of which he couldn’t be fucked to care about.

Once freed, his cock sprang out with a sort of eagerness that might have been mortifying if he had a spare thought beyond the heat of Aziraphale’s breath and his intense gaze. Why was Aziraphale staring? Was there something wrong with his cock? Was it all the garishly red hair around it?

“Look, you don’t have to-”

Aziraphale’s tongue hit the base and moved slowly up. Crowley’s eyes slammed shut involuntarily as his head flew backward. He forced them open and forced his head back up. He wanted to paint that image onto his retinas. He didn’t ever want to see anything else. He’d seen that mouth around food, around forks, around fingers even. Now-

“Fuck,” Crowley panted.

Aziraphale let out a pleased hum that turned Crowley’s insides molten. His whole world reduced to the feeling of that mouth on him. That tongue. Those lips. In even his wildest imaginings he had never thought to see this, to have Aziraphale between his legs sucking him off. And he was entirely at the angel’s mercy. His hips ached to move, to get more , closer , but the angle of his legs didn’t allow it. He needed something, though, and so he finally relented and put his hands on Aziraphale. His fingers dug into the meat of Aziraphale’s shoulder and tangled in his curls. It had to hurt but Aziraphale only moaned and smiled around Crowley’s cock.

Crowley couldn’t understand any of this. He couldn’t fathom Aziraphale actually wanting this, enjoying this . How long had Aziraphale wanted this and why had he finally acted tonight of all nights? Was Crowley going to have to don his best suit and burn his feet every night from here to the end of the world? Because God knew he would. Oh, what he wouldn’t have given to be in Her head at that moment, to know what She thought about the Guardian of the Eastern Gate sucking down the Serpent of Eden’s cock like it was the Cheval Blanc that was still collecting dust somewhere.

That thought made his muscles spasm. Contract. “Aziraphale, I-” I love you. Have for the past six thousand years and maybe you’ve finally found me out. Maybe that’s all this is. Pity. And maybe it’s just tonight. But even if it is, I’ll love you still. Always. Always. Always. “I’m close.”

Aziraphale moaned and took him deeper.

“Fuck. Aziraphale. Fuck. I-”

His jaw snapped shut with a clack, his back arched, and his eyes closed against the explosion of color behind them. A supernova, he thought somewhat deliriously. He’d had his hand in a few, back when he’d been good for creating things. Now, Aziraphale had as well. Or a mouth, rather. Maybe Crowley would suggest he name it. The humans only ever gave them a series of numbers and letters.

Crowley melted into the couch, panting. He opened his eyes just in time to see Aziraphale licking his lips as he stood.

“Jesus Christ.”

Aziraphale only smiled as he took Crowley’s legs up with him and swung them around so that his feet could be propped up on the arm of the couch. Crowley was too insensible to protest. What he did protest was Aziraphale stepping away. Crowley quickly sat up and caught the fleeing Principality by the wrist.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“I was going to fetch our clothes and then perhaps finally break open that bottle of wine.”

“Aziraphale.”

Crowley looked pointedly at Aziraphale’s flushed and leaking cock. Aziraphale’s cheeks turned a similar color before he turned his head away.

“Tonight was about you. I wanted to show you how much I… how thankful I am.”

Crowley’s heart twisted, a flaming sword to the chest. “Yeah, well, I’m feeling really fucking thankful now, so come here.”

He didn’t give Aziraphale time to make excuses. He used his grip on the angel’s wrist to pull him down on top of him. Aziraphale yelped in surprise but did nothing to fight against it as Crowley adjusted them both so that Aziraphale was between his legs. Crowley rested his chin on Aziraphale’s shoulder.

One by one he undid the buttons of Aziraphale’s shirt. Every stretch of skin unveiled was a thrill. He ran a thumb over the pert, pink flesh of one of the nipples. He swept his knuckles through the near white cloud of chest hair and followed its trail down, over a soft stomach, to the place where it darkened to blond in the juncture between thighs. He let the pads of his fingers sink into plush flesh, not yet moving to his intended target.

“Why did humans ever invent clothes?”

He hadn’t expected an answer because he hadn’t entirely meant to say that aloud. Aziraphale gave one anyway. “I believe it had something to do with a tree. And an apple. And a snake.”

“Right. Well, time to do my penance for that, I suppose.”

He took Aziraphale’s length in hand. Aziraphale drew in a sharp breath and pressed back into Crowley. A guttural sound escaped Crowley’s mouth before he buried half his face in the thick muscle of Aziraphale’s shoulder.

Crowley had some hands-on experience. As in, his own hand on himself. He knew what he should do, in theory, but the reality of having Aziraphale in his grip, both hard and velvety soft all at once, was a different thing altogether. What did Aziraphale like? Did he enjoy the same pressure? The same speed? Crowley prided himself in being a quick study of things Aziraphale enjoyed and he was damned sure he was going to get it right. He was willing to spend all the time in the world to find out. He carefully catalogued every reaction, each wiggle, moan, and gasp until he had Aziraphale panting in his lap.

“ Oh .”

He sounded so surprised to find himself cared for. It spurred Crowley onward. He slowed the pace just enough to get Aziraphale thrusting up into his fist in search of more. And Crowley would give him more, give him whatever he wanted. That Aziraphale wanted him only served to make Crowley’s head swim.

He was going to lose his mind. He grabbed onto Aziraphale’s chest with his free hand. There was fat there, that wondrous softness that he adored, but also muscle. Strength. He remembered how easily Aziraphale had hefted him up earlier. So damn strong and so damn much. He’d let himself be pulled down and he was letting Crowley control things now. Everything felt suddenly hot and hazy.

“What do you want?” Crowley asked, desperate for a focus.

Aziraphale put his hand around Crowley’s and guided him. “Like that,” he gasped. “Just like that.”

Crowley followed his lead to the letter. Aziraphale bucked upward and it was all Crowley could do to try to hold him close. He could feel all those glorious muscles tense on top of him. Crowley’s own hips stuttered in rhythm with Aziraphale’s movements.

“Crowley.”

A demonic name sent up like a prayer. Aziraphale said it like he’d never had anything more blessed on his tongue. Crowley blinked away the moisture that had gathered in his eyes. He buried his face deeper into the crook of Aziraphale’s neck. “Just let go. I’ve got you.”

Aziraphale’s entire body shuddered and in another moment, Crowley’s hand was painted with the wet heat of him. Crowley rode the crest of that wave with Aziraphale and did his best to guide him down again. He felt entirely boneless by the time it was all over. It was all he could do to snap away any mess so that Aziraphale wouldn’t fret after it and would, perhaps, lay with him a moment longer.

Aziraphale shifted but didn’t get up. Instead he pulled an exceedingly rumpled suit jacket from underneath him. “Oh dear.”

“Don’t worry about it, angel.”

“But you looked so dashing in your suit.”

A small squeak escaped Crowley’s mouth and he cleared his throat. “Eh. If it makes you feel any better, think I’m sitting on your waistcoat.”

That was the wrong thing to say. Aziraphale scrambled up to his feet. Crowley might have been offended by being cast aside in favor of a piece of clothing, but he was too distracted by the fact that Aziraphale had lifted him up to retrieve said clothing.

Aziraphale put Crowley back down and then held out his waistcoat to examine it. “I’ve had this for nearly a century and now look at the state of it,” he said.

“It’ll be fine, angel. Just get it laundered.”

Aziraphale looked at him with his bottom lip wobbling and Crowley sighed. He gathered up what energy he had left and snapped his fingers again. Aziraphale was dressed tip to toe once more in regular immaculate fashion. He was about to do the same for himself when Aziraphale caught his hand.

“Let me clean them for you,” he offered as he gathered up the discarded clothing. “You really shouldn’t be back on your feet just yet and I can take care of them while you rest.”

“Rest,” Crowley repeated. He blinked. “Wait, you mean here?”

“Well, not there, precisely. I have a small flat upstairs that you can use. I assume the bed would be more comfortable than the couch but I haven’t used it, myself, so I can’t speak definitively.”

“Right. Here. Sleep. Uh…”

He felt like he should say something. There were a lot of unsaid somethings hanging in the air between them still but he was worried if he mentioned any of them, whatever little bubble they were currently in would burst. It couldn’t be too bad to shove that all under the rug for one night, could it? He’d lived through a lot of pain and would gladly live through more if it meant just this one night in Aziraphale’s good graces. Even if it made a space inside him ache so keenly he thought he might split in two.

“Yeah, sure. Why not? Lead the way.”

Aziraphale stooped and gathered Crowley up into his arms once more. “Your feet, remember?”

Crowley’s brain rang with the high pitched squeal of a tea kettle. Once he was sure it wouldn’t escape his mouth when he opened it, he said, “Right, just go ahead and manhandle me. When have I ever gotten in the way of what you wanted to do?”

Aziraphale beamed at him and pressed a featherlight kiss to his temple. “Never, dearest.”

That one word had the power to fell Crowley and perhaps tomorrow it would find its place amongst his many handpicked scars. For the time being, though, he thought he could forget to hurt.

#good omens #fic #my writing #crowley #anthony j crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands

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edelwoodsouls · 3 years

Text

wrap me in sunset and sleep [fic]

Wilde hasn’t been fine in a long time. But it’s okay; Zolf can bear the load. (Not to me. Not if it’s you.)

Word Count: 1,776 | Also on Ao3

Nights in the North are cold.

Zolf is used to the cold. Days aboard a ship, soaked in salt water and bitter air, and hours spent in the chill below ground of the mines, have both prepared him for this atmosphere.

Wilde, however, is not. The last couple of years have hardened him, yes- but they haven't changed his love of the finer things. Of the small comforts - a warm bed, a good drink, an arm around him as he sleeps.

It is this argument that convinced Zolf. "I'll be so lonely, Zolf," Wilde had grinned, with a flicker of that old, familiar spark in his eye that has always made Zolf ache. "I just can't get warm, after all that being dead nonsense."

Zolf had rolled his eyes. Grabbed one of Wilde's gesturing hands out of the air, held it close between his own. "Feels plenty warm to me."

Maybe it's his own bias. To him, Wilde is an ever-flickering flame in a world increasingly plunged into dark. Those moments, between a bloody body sprawled across snow, and the sudden gasp of breath in frozen lungs- those were darker than he ever dreamed the world could be.

And he's been living in twilight longer than he can remember.

"Then let me keep you warm," Wilde had whispered, pulling Zolf's hands to cup his face. The touch of skin on skin had felt like an open flame, and a gentle breeze, all at once.

"Okay," Zolf had said, voice barely more than a whisper.

He couldn't have dared to imagine, when they first met, how this man, this insufferably annoying bard, would change him. Worm his way under every steel guard Zolf has ever erected, and find a nook to nestle in, at home in his heart.

It takes them a while to find the opportunity. The news of the seed, the infection, the garden, parade through as cruel distractions, as if fate is counting down the extra days it can keep the two of them apart.

Finally, they return to the ship, newly fixed and gleaming. The garden has left everyone- off, a little. Distracted, and distant, drifting in a sea of memories and what-ifs and heartache.

Zolf isn't unaffected, but he learnt to live with his ghosts a long time ago. Hears their calls every night in his dreams, their sneers at every choice he makes and doesn't make. Just because they were corporeal for a little while, doesn't change things.

It's Wilde he's worried about.The garden definitely hit him worse than the others. His eyes are unfocused, stuck towards the horizon. Head cocked slightly, as if the whispers of spirits haven't left him behind. The tremor in his hands is back, his fingers cold to the touch.

He's quiet, but not in a Wilde-like way - not the stern reservation Zolf has grown accustomed to. It's lost, and vacant. As if the world is merely a stream passing him by.

Zolf links his fingers into Wilde's as they approach the ship. The gesture is accepted without complaint, without any registration. Wilde lets himself be led up onto the deck.

"Get some rest, you lot," Earhart yells down by way of greeting, from up in the rigging. "You can debrief in the morning."

"Not now?" Zolf asks, frowning.

"You look like you're all about to drop dead," she sniffs. "It won't do any good to report in this state."

"Are you being nice, Earhart?"

"Just practical. Go below before I change my mind."

Zolf tips a salute in her direction, and doesn't ask twice.

He turns to Wilde. In the dying light of the evening, the sun unfiltered by clouds, Wilde is haloed in a soft warm glow, not unlike the aura of magic he used to protect everyone in the garden. His shock-white hair almost dances in the breeze, brushing against his jaw, his slightly-parted lips, his distant blue eyes.

Zolf isn't a religious man anymore, but for Wilde he could make an exception.

"Wilde?" he asks softly. "You with me?"

For a moment, the words seem to vanish into smoke, and Zolf is more scared than he wants to admit that, maybe, the void that has gaped beneath Wilde's feet for years has finally claimed him.

Then the clouds seem to part. Wilde's eyes find his, his fingers curl to squeeze Zolf's. Something like a smile, still a little dreamy and disconnected, tugs at the corners of his lips.

"I'm here, Zolf," he says. "Thank you."

"Let's get you into bed."

"At least buy me dinner first," Wilde's smile splits into that familiar, teasing grin.

"Maybe tomorrow," Zolf says gruffly, glad that his beard hides the heat rising in his cheeks, somewhat. "If you can get a full night's sleep, I'll buy you the best dinner money can buy aboard a flying airship in the middle of the aurora."

"Is that a promise?"

Zolf takes a breath, letting the cold air sober the moment. "Yes, it is."

Wilde nods, satisfied. And maybe- a little nervous? Relieved? It's hidden under several layers of bravado, but Zolf has learnt to read every line of that face, every spark in those eyes.

"Come on," Zolf finally breaks their eye contact, feeling sure his blush has crawled to places it definitely can't hide. "Earhart wasn't wrong when she said we need sleep. You look like a strong gust of wind would knock you over."

"I bend with the wind, Zolf. Like a tree. Resilient and tall, and an absolutely stunning view."

"Yeah, yeah. And I'm the boulder that is dragging you downhill to bed."

"Lead on, good rock."

And Zolf does, not daring to let go of Wilde's hand even as they descend into the narrow, warren-like corridors of the ship.

He leads them to Wilde's room, and Wilde does nothing but smile, small and almost-hidden, when Zolf closes the door behind him.

"I'll stay," Zolf offers, as Wilde sits heavily on the bed and begins to unlace his shoes. "If you want, that is. I can stay."

"It would be pretty hard to sleep together, if you were in a different room."

"Well, yeah..."

"And it's not as if we can sleep in your room, half my legs would hang off the end."

"True," Zolf concedes, feeling half a step behind. He has never been sure, exactly, what this thing between them is. Isn't used to people wanting him, choosing him, when there are any other options to go with.

"And it does get dreadfully cold in this room, being so close to the outer hull-"

"Okay, Wilde, I'll stay. Just wanted to check you hadn't..."

"What?" Wilde's face grows serious, and Zolf's gut squirms with guilt at instantly killing the mood. "Forgotten? Changed my mind?"

Zolf nods wordlessly, unable to look him in the eye.

"Zolf." Wilde doesn't stand, but beckons him over with a hand. Hesitant, nervous, Zolf sits beside him on the bed, not quite touching.

Wilde reaches out, cups his hands on either side of Zolf's jaw. "I'm not going to change my mind," he says, slowly, watching to make sure each word lands where it's supposed to. "Whatever this is, I need you to know that. I need you to know that I need you."

"Really?" There's a lump in his throat, chewing up any thoughts of words, until they scratch and ache.

"Really." Wilde takes a careful, shivering breath. "You know I worry the same thing, about you? That you'll wake up one day and see the cracks, see that I'm this- shackle, around your ankles, dragging you down. And you'll leave me, and I wouldn't blame you even a little bit."

"Well, I'm not going anywhere." Zolf rests a hand against Wilde's, revels in the warmth, in the contact, in the quiet peace of this moment- something neither of them has known in a long time.

"That's good," Wilde breathes. His eyes have drifted downwards, but he says nothing.

"Wilde?"

"Can I-" He's hesitating, unsure. "I don't know, if you- I know you- that is to say-"

"Just kiss me, Wilde."

He doesn't need telling twice. He closes the gap in a moment, magnets drawing the two of them together.

For all that Zolf has, maybe, perhaps, in private moments, imagined what kind of a kisser Oscar Wilde might be, nothing compares to the reality. His lips are warm, and soft - gentle, but insistent. His fingers curl into his hair, resting comfortably there.

A single moment leaves Zolf breathless. Ten seconds, and he thinks he might never come down from that buzzing, lightheaded feeling.

Eventually, Wilde pulls away. Zolf follows his lips for a moment, before the world returns, the chill of the evening air, the wind outside the window, the perpetual ache in his bones.

Everything feels a little distant, in the aftermath. This night, this moment, is just the two of them, just the warmth clasped between their hands and the shiver of their breaths as their lungs try to remember oxygen.

"That was..." The words have scattered, just out of reach.

"Show-stopping? Stunning? Perhaps a little magical?" Wilde grins, preening under Zolf's gaze.

"All of the above," Zolf smiles, softly, carefully. "Definitely worth repeating."

"Maybe in the morning. After all, I need to get that solid eight hour sleep if I want to be treated to dinner, right?"

"Right."

"And before you ask-" Wilde flourishes his hands, face drawn down in an exaggerated frown, "I am the big spoon."

Zolf can't help the laugh that bursts out of him, rough and explosive, startlingly loud. "Whatever pleases you," he manages to say. "Although I have it on good authority I am very good at hugs."

"Oh, the best," Wilde nods knowingly. "But for now, I do the holding. I need... I need to know you're safe."

Zolf throws his arms around him, before Wilde can do so much as process his movements. That fracturing, spiralling look on his face is one Zolf would do anything to fold away in a drawer to be forgotten.

"I'm here," he whispers. "I'm safe, and so are you. We're going to fix the world, and go on holiday, and settle down somewhere beautiful and peaceful, with a theatre for your plays, and a bookshop with all the latest Campbell novels for me. Does that sound good to you?"

Wilde returns the hug, squeezing him as if Zolf might vanish at any moment. "You know what? I think that sounds perfect."

When they sleep, finally, rocked by the gentle drift of the ship, and the steady rhythm of each others' hearts, it's the best either of them has slept in years.

#rusty quill gaming #rqg #fanfiction #zolf smith #oscar wilde rqg #zolf/wilde #own work #morgan writes #fluff #hurt/comfort #rqg spoilers

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undercoverwizardninjaturtle · 4 years

Text

A ROTTMNT Fanfiction: The Lucky One Chapter 1

Word Count: 4137

Summary: Leo has never considered himself to be unlucky, but when meets a young rabbit samurai wielding a bokken he wonders if luck is all its cracked up to be

Pairings: Whats zero times zero? MORE ZERO

[1]“Are you Miyamoto Usagi?”

Those were the first words Katsuichi had ever said to him. At the time he had been a small child just shy of five years and half drowned by a rain storm determined to finish him off. The tree he had found refuge under was barely doing its job of keeping him somewhat dry. The storm had drove him to seek out shelter after a puddle, one that had failed to drown him had taken his sandal as collateral.

Truth be told a wiser person wold of turned back, even a stupider person would of decided to go back. But there was nothing left for him back in the village. Except for his fathers grave and the pitying eyes of well meaning villagers.

Truth be told, any one fo them would of taken him in and he was sure he’d have a happy life with them.

But to be thought of as a burden, even as young as he was, was unbearable.

That was the reason he didn’t answer immediately. He thought maybe one of the villagers had sent the man after him, but at the moment he was too tired to lie. All he could do was nod before pulling his knees under his chin o help preserve some warmth

“There’s a lot of people worried about you little one.”

“I’m not going back.” Usagi had been sure of that just as he had been sure he’d never have a say in the matter. His numb body and spirit had nothing left in him.

There was a shuffling coming from the samurai in front of him, but rather then drag him away by his ears, the samurai settled by his side ,sitting with his back to the tree. Curiosity got the better of Usagi and he finally glanced to the stranger.

He had seen samurai before, his father had been one, but none like this. A tall lion with long red hair and matching beard that barely gives room for his eyes and mouth, wearing a for black silk kimono and a dark blue happi. Both were finer then any clothing he had ever seen but well cared for.

For a moment the two sat in silence, with nothing but the rain to fill the silence. Then the samurai spoke “I am sorry about your father. When I received word of his passing,, I cam as quick as I could.”

At the time Usagi could only look at the lion samurai in confusion, he was sure he hand known all his fathers friends, “how did you know him?”

“I knew him from many years ago, . I made a promise that if anything happened to him I would look after you.”

“I don’t want another father. I liked the one I had.”

“As you should. You are a faithful son. You will be my student. Nothing more nothing less.”

Usagi looked down to the ground. The rain had continued its onslaught since the samurai had joined him, and at this point it almost seemed like the world was drowning.

What chance did he have other wise?

What choice did he have?

Taking his silence as a answer ,the samurai rose to his feet and Usagi with him. If he had known how far they’d be walking, he would of gone back for his sandal. But he kept silent. Through years of training, of living in isolation, and everything he kept silent.

He would never allow himself to become a burden

(#)(#)\/(#)(#)

Ten years later

“Alright, you two, what are the rules?”

Leo rolled his eyes, “I don’t know, ask Don he was listening.” He could hear Hueso grinding his teeth together but couldn’t be bothered to look up from Miscord, “Right D?” His brother was now giving him the same unamused look but he made sure to give him a smile before looking back to his phone, “Right?”

“Yeah.”Don looked back to Hueso,” The rules are: Don’t’ leave Hueso’s side, don’t annoy Hueso, don’t’ say anything to anyone but Hueso. And don’t let Leo talk to anyone even Hueso.”

That brought him back, “What?! Hey!” Leo glared at the skeleton, “I don’t remember that one.”

“You didn’t remember any of them that’s the point.” Hueso jabbed a finer in his face,’ You didn’t even remember your portal sword. That I told you explicitly to bring”

Leo puffed up his cheeks before crossing his arms, trying to ignore Donnie smirking at him , “Look I just wont talk to anyone.” He clearly lied, Ok, so he had left his sword implanted in Dad’s armchair, it wasn’t’ because it was huge, bulky and tired of carrying it around (who could be sick of carrying around a giant portal sword that was almost bigger then most of his friends)but for other reasons that he didn’t have to justify to anyone, “I didn’t know we’d be going to the Mystic City! You’re the ones who supposed to have those toppings! I figured the most dangerous thing we’d be doing is

“It is not my fault my restaurant ran out of those toppings hours ago and the only way to get more is front the market. And almost every time you go anywhere in the Mystic City you end up being chased by a mob.”

“I thought Karlos picked up your groceries from the Market?” Donnie asked from disinterest, “and wait on tables, and deliver food.”

“I need to get that kid a raise.” Hueso said to himself, “And apparently he’s got a weird form of rabies and tetanus so he’s taking some time off. That is why if you REALLY want those toppings wer can only get them here, in the Mystic City Farmers Market. Now I will ask you two this ONCE. Is this all worth the hassle?”

Leo glanced at his brother, and this time Donnie actually made eye contact, albeit nervous eye contact , with him. Making a quick agreement as Don held his phone up higher and switching over to Raph’s number. Leo ducked in closer to be in the video lens. “Um, Mabye its better to show you?” Don gave him clear ‘the hell are you thinking?!’ Look before rolling his eyes back at him and pulling up his phone and pressing on Raph’s number, their brothers phone only rang for a moment before Raph’s desperate face filled the screen, “Don thank god where are you?! Do you have the toppings!? Are you outside!? Are you coming in!? Are you calling to tell me you’re in the kitchen and you’re about the bring it out?!”

‘Heeeyyy buddy.” Leo squished his face by Don’s so he could be in frame, “Just want to check in on you, hows our sick wittle brover?”

Raph’s face, which had been young and full of hope a week earlier fell further (Leo noted a plate going flying behind his head, “just checking in?!” Are you crazy?! Do you know what happens when I turn my back on Mikey-“ Raph gave a shriek and dropped the phone, in the background Leo could hear him yelling,” JUST PLAY DEAD POPS! MIKEY PUT THE FRIDGE DOWN!” It took several seconds before Raph came back into view, judging by the wood behind Leo guessed he had crawled under a table, “Listen to me right NOW. Mikey’s already taken Dad hostage and is dominating the living room. He’s trying to conquer the kitchen next and I don’t know how much longer I can hold him off! My barricade isn’t going to hold off forever!”

“Michelangelo is about as intimidating as a wet kitten,” Hueso paused, “Wait, he threw the fridge-“

Raph gave another shriek before he disappeared from sight followed by a dead tone. Don put his phone away, “That’s why we need the toppings. Mikey has had a stomach flu all week and hasn’t been able to eat anything other then gluten free dry granola bars. If we don’t give him what he wants, he’s probably going to end up a orphan and a only child.”

Hueso pinched his brow taking a few steps away cursing in Spanish. Leo could only catch a few snippets, of what he was saying but he was pretty sure Hueso was cursing him out. He couldn’t help but sigh and drop his head on Don’s shoulder watching the Yokai passing by with disinterest. He had heard Hueso mention the Mystic City Farmers Market a few times, normally with scorn and a complaint about “the price of Basilisk Cheese” or something. Hueso finally straightedges, out brushed his hands down the front of his suit and turned to look at them with a deep breath,”alright, but again follow my rules, don’t annoy me and we’ll be out before blood worm hour in the Pizza Restaurant.”

Leo wasn’t sure he wanted to know what ‘blood worm’ hour was all about. But Hueso was already walking into the crowd, (“don’t wander off!” Hueso yelled) He gave his brother a shove on his battle shell to keep in him front , “Hey D?” He started, “I know I already asked you this, but are you going to be ok? If you can handle this I’ll just go with Hueso alone.”

“I’m not letting you go alone,I just.” Don took a deep meditative breath pressing his palms together, “We could of avoided this whole thing if we had just left the Lair on time.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” He could admit fault sometimes. He just did always like doing it, “We’ll do this as quick as possible. In, out, and I’ll make it up to you I promise. I’ll buy you...” Leo though for a moment, bribery really was the best wa to deal with a stressed Don, “Three Jupiter Jim comics of your choosing.”

Don gave him a long look, and for a sec Leo though this brother was too off with him to take his offer but Don sighed, ‘It’s fine I have my noise cancelling headphones, now immune to mystic energy, and three back ups. Plus my special noise canceling bandana Dad made me so I’m fine. Let’s just go.’”

“Great! That’s my man!” Leo did a half skip sideways through the portal for the usual flash of blue before he ended up on th either side a second later in a crowd of Yokai with Donnie by his side a a second later. Thankfully it wasn’t crowded as he was used to, but like any other time he had gone to the Underground city it was the sheer number of different Yokai caught him off guard. None of them gave a glance to the two turtles that appeared out of no where. Leo made sure to check on his brother for a moment, “Ready D? Are you ok for splitting up? Who can ever find the creeepy toppings first owes the other five comics!” Rather then wait for Don to verify (or rightly accuse him of trying to weasel out of paying his comics) Leo ducked off.

The last few times he had been here he didn’t really have the chance to look around stalls too closely. Now he could see that most of them held strange trinkets, like necklaces made necklaces out of eyeballs and flasks containing different swirling colors. And a crap ton of weapons that made him feel like he was in a ‘shop’ in a video game store.

There was a bump on his shoulder and for a moment his vision was filled with starkingly white fur, “Sumimasen,”said the slightly shorter figure before moving past. Leo barely gave it another thought until something white hanging of its head pricked him in the eyes, “ow!” Leo rubbed his eyes before half glaring at the person who passed him, “Long ass ears. “ he cursed lightly, was that a rabbit? He glanced for a moment. Yup a bright white rabbit who was already giving him no second thought.

“Looking for something Kappa?”

Leo drew his attention to the vendor he had been getting ready to talk to, who somehow had more mouths then head, “Yeah buddy my bone man, me and my bro are looking for some like weird worms with eyes that normally goes on pizza? You seen anyone who sells it?”

The Vendor twisted its mouths for a moment, “Uh, not sure what a pizza is.”

He narrowed his eyes, “You have a infinite amount of mouths and NONE of them have eaten pizza? You lead a. A sad life “ Don gave a half nod of agreement before going back to his wrist tablet. There was a yank on his mask and he found himself Stumbling back into Hueso’s face, “Why am I not surprised you ignored everything I said?”

“Because its my charm?”Leo said with a big smile. Hueso opened his mouth, probably to tell him off or to threaten to drag him before something behind Leo caught his eye, “oh boy.” He said with the same tone he’d use whenever Leo enter the pizza joint. Leo turned around, glancing around trying to find the source of his concern. There was a Pirate Puppy Yokai, a Cat Cavalier Yokai, that white rabbit looking at a booth, and a yokai that was just a eyeball wearing a fedora. He was about to ask who Hueso was talking about but his eyes were fixated on the rabbit, “You mean Bugs Bunny over there?”

“Karlos mentioned seeing a white rabbit the last few times he came here. He’s always here by himself which is not a good idea.”

“Why not? We’re here by ourselves, and we’re fine. And you just said Karlos comes here alone.”

“Its is not the same, you’re here with me. Trust me if you were alone you would of already had your shell stolen. And Karlos only comes down here on days I designate. As I said its not always safe here-“

“What are you looking at boy!?” A loud voice shouted over the already loud crowd.

The rabbit jumped nearly a foot in the air (literally and figuratively) not a that Leo could blame him, the yelling Yokai was some sort of Cyclops Octopus Yokai with fat arms and giant bat ears and looked as though he was the owner of the booth the rabbit had been standing at, “You’ve been here five times in the past two days, are you going to buy something or what?!”

“I-I-I um” the rabbit stuttered out before his arms magnetized to his side and he bowed in a Almost robotic manner,” I’m sorry please forgive me. I didn’t mean to cause you problems-“

“You’re causing me problems by taking up space!” The yokai suddenly grabbed the rabbit by the front of his shirt and yanked him close to his face in a way Leo could tell he was very uncomfortable with, “Are you trying to steal from me boy!?It’d be the last thing you ever-“

“OI.” Hueso shouted, finally shoving past a Yokai made of Play-do, “Berbi quit acting like a thug.”

The Yokai, apparently Berbi, swung to look at him, “I know a thief when I see once Hueso. I’m not a idiot.”

“You have glaucoma Berbi, you think everyone is a thief. Now go eat a candy bar and quit scaring off your real costumers.”

Berbi glared hard Hueso with snarling broken teeth, but after a moment he flinch and looked away with a snarl shoving the rabbit away stomping back behind the curtain behind his booth. When Hueso started walking Leo followed him on autopilot. He was used to seeing Hueso dealing gang members and Big Mama he had almost forgot Hueso was capable of as much intimidation as anyone. Now that they were closer, he could see the the rabbit was his age, if a bit shorter. Wearing a short blue untucked kimono with a white obi and black pants (they were called hakamas right) and some sort of samurai sandals his ears tied back in a pony tail his fur was so fluffy that some of it stuck out on his scalp, his bright pink eyes looking to them in concern as though he wasn’t sure what to do or expect from them. Instead he did as he did before and bowed, “Thank you, I’m sorry for causing you trouble as well.”He said with a soft Japanese accent

“Do not thank me, are you here alone? Where are your parents?”

The rabbit looked at him in surprise,”I-I’m not, I don’t-“ he looked away for a moment as though in shame

“If you don’t’ have parents, then I’ll take you to one of the shelters nearby.”

“I’m-“ the rabbit froze, “I have a home. I’m just not there.”

Hueso looked him hard, causing the rabbit to avert his eyes. Leo could just remember that it was supposedly a sign of respect. Right? Atleast according to the Samurai Sam movies he had watched (not nearly as good as Jupiter Jim or Lou Jitsu but still enjoyable). He took a moment to glance around, don was no where in sight, hopefully finding the toppings they needed. They had a good enough signal that Don would text him if he needed him-“

“Fine, go home boy. Before someone less pleasant then Berbi decides you’re a thief. You’re drawing too much attention to yourself and here that is dangers out. So go home rabbit, go back to your family And I better not find you here again.” Hueso turned on his step and walked away. Leo turned after him, looking over his shoulder at the rabbit who was still staring at his feet, but the pain coming off him was enough even for him to notice, “dude, bone man wasn’t that a little mean?”

“No. Not mean. Just harsh. This isn’t a safe place for children to be hanging gout alone. Some yokai who come from neighboring villages like to make a bet out of coming here and seeing what they can get away with, I doubt he’s one of them but he needs to go where he belongs where he can be safe. IF my son were in this situation i would want someone to give him the same advice.’  Sometimes Leo forgot that Hueso was a dad, he had never actually met HUeso’s son, but in the few times he spoke of him and judging by the photo on the wall he loved his son dearly. Which was in no way a bad thing. But He looked back over his shoulder at the rabbit again. His whole body slumped as he turned and disappeared around the corner.

He wasn’t sure what drove him to do it, but Leo stopped long enough to duck behind a large platypus yokai. Hopping Hueso wouldn’t notice his disappearance for too long. He glanced at his phone, Donnie had sent him a picture of some Creepy Toppings, atleast he had found some. They’d be gone in a few minutes but he didn’t’ want to leave yet.

Leo ducked the way he had seen the rabbit go, with such a thick crowd he could only guess that the rabbit had ducked between two small buildings. The rabbit was ducked in the buildings shadow, leaning his forehead against the wall with a shadow cast over his face. Leo couldn’t tell if he was frowning or what, and a wiser person might of decided to leave it be

and yet

Leo waved “Hey! Bunny man!” grinning as the rabbit once again metaphorically and physically jumped a foot in the air, looking as though his fur was on end, looking at him as though he was a car insurance salesman and not a overly cheerful rabbit, “what do you want?!” the rabbit asked not rudely, “I’m leaving just please leave me alone-“

“Don’t let Bone man bother you, he’s a sweetheart. I just wanted to make sure you were ok.”

The rabbit blinked at him, momentarily stunned “Y-yes I’m fine thank you for your concern but I must go .”

“Oh come on don’t let Hueso scare you off, why don’t you come hang out with me and my bro-“his words were cut off by a sudden shove on his shell sent him hard to the ground, his beak cracking against the ground and filing his mouth without blood, he went to raise his head again when something pressed hard on the back of his skull pressing his face hard on the ground

“I knew you stole something! I knew it! you and this fish kid are working together!” Leo couldn’t help but groan loudly at Berbi’s voice, “ Aw you again?! Go take a vitamin man-“ before his mouth was full of ground again

“I- I haven’t stolen anything!” the rabbit said ,” Please don’t hurt him-“

“Empty your pockets!”

Oh boy, Leo was starting to see why Hueso didn’t want him or Don coming here alone.From the lid of his eye he could barely see the rabbit feel around ,”All-all I have is a onigiri and some water-“

“Then give me that thing you have at your waist!”

The rabbit hesitated, before reaching for his obi, because Leo had seen far too many samurai movies he had expected the rabbit to pull out a magic katana or a sword bigger then his, but instead he slid out a polished wooden sword, bowing and holding it out, “just please stop hurting him and you can have it.”

There was a pause, judging by the way the foot shifted on his head he could guess Berbi was trying to get a better close at it before the Yokai burst out laughing,” That’s all?! a stick?!You run around all day with a stick playing samurai?! God” he snorted, “you’re just a nobody aren’t you?” his face leaned close to the rabbit who kept his gaze to the ground. a meaty fist grabbed him by ear and yanked hard, forcing his gaze up to his, “ I bet you wouldn’t last five seconds in then Nexus-“

The pressure was finally off his head enough that Leo rolled away, “Go eat a damn vitamin you bitch!” Leo swung his leg out and kicked Berbi hard on the side of the knee causing the large yokai to shout out in pain and stumble away, releasing the rabbit, Berbi grabbed his leg and glared at him, the rabbit suddenly grabbed him by hand, yanking him to his feet “Come on!” dashing down the opposite side badly giving Leo enough time to get on his feet. Berbi was already back on his feet, yanking out what looked like brass knuckles out from his pocket ,” You’re a bitch!” Leo yelled

Despite running the rabbit looked back on him with a surprised look, “I am not a bitch! My name is Usagi!”

“No not you, him!” Leo blinked, ignoring the Yokai yelling and running after them, “wait you’re a rabbit named Usagi? Did your parents hate you?!”

Usagi’s eyes widen,” WhA- no my parents hate-“ before nearly running smack dab into a wall. Leo, being closest to the turn, took the lead dragging Usagi after him before realizing they were at a dead end barely a second later Berbi slammed into the wall after them. He barely had time to shoulder Usagi behind him, “ You two are DEAD,-“ Berbi shouted, “I was going to sell you two to the Battle Nexus. but i think i’d rather keep you and beat some manners into you-“

“Would you stop talking like a anime villain for five seconds?!” Leo asked ,” Seriously you’re boring me!” he managed to get his phone. Don had sent him a few messages asking him where he was. He had no doubt that Donnie was already tracking his location. So he and Hueso would be here soon. Not soon enough though his head was hurting so bad he hadn’t noticed that Berbi was in face until his hand closed around his head before a shout came from behind him

“Leave him alone!”

Before Leo could acknowledge what was going on, Usagi had charged forward slamming his wooden sword hard into Berbis stomach sending the Yokai hard into the wall. Any relief that Leo might of ,could of, felt disappeared when the building next to them began to tremble, larger cracks forming, “ah BEANS.” He had fallen of buildings plenty of times but he wasn’t sure he could survive one falling on him-

Suddenly a familiar blue lights formed behind him. Before he could turn and fully give a reaction, Usagi’s arm hooked around his neck and drug him back, filling Leo’s vision and world with familiar ring of a portal ring he himself had built many times

Not for the first time that day, he really wished that he had brought his portal sword

a/n

thats right! as a huge Usagi fan it was inevitable that I would write a Usagi fic. design and certain aspects for Usagi was inspired by the great and powerful @lesbianleonardo

[1]

#rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #fanfiction #usagi #miyamoto usagi #usagi yojimbo #leo #undercoverwizardninjaturtle #tmnt 2k18 #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #donnie #tmnt fanfiction

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tonks32 · 3 years

Text

Aiden Trevelyan X Cassandra Prompt “Hold On to Me”

There was no point in struggling or screaming. Logically, Casandra knew that, but it didn’t stop her from fighting against the metal shackles or crying out till her throat became raw. She’d be damned if she were going to be idle while these deranged blood mages bled her dry for some Maker forsaken ritual. They would not kill her in the same way they had her brother.

“Silence!” One of the masked mages commanded. “I told you before no one can hear you. No one will find you.”

Wrist bleeding from the metal biting into her skin, Cassandra starred at the man through the dim light. They had her bound on a stone alter in nothing more than a swash of cloth surrounded by flaming black candles. Their glow was the only light source since they blacked out the windows. “Fuck you!”

Wrapping a hand around her throat, he slammed her head back hard enough to leave the warrior dazed. “Such a mouth for a Chantry woman. This all would’ve been so much easier if you agreed to help us.”

Cassandra fought to clear her vision. If she passed out then she was good as dead. She had to hold out until her companions found her. Surely, they would have started looking for her when she didn’t return from bathing down by the stream. She’d let her guard down and now was playing the price. “I will never willingly help a blood mage.” Though she couldn’t quite see her mark, she spat in the man’s face. “Especially ones that murdered my brother.”

The man let out a long sigh and motioned for another in the room to flank the altar. He swept his finger over the streak of blood leaking from her raw wrist. “He could not see his true purpose. He failed to see the tremendous power within his blood.”

“Look at her struggling.” A third man stood at the foot of the alter. “Look at how she’s wasting that power.”

“We must hurry before she throws away more.” The first man rubbed his blood coated finer over the bridge of his nose making his eyes glow red. “Tell the others to come inside and we will begin.”

Cassandra became paralyzed by fear the moment the cold steel of a blade touched her throat. Just like the night her brother was killed, she could do nothing to stop the actions about to happen. They were about to drain her blood to appease some sick dragon ritual She was going to die bound and helpless. Her greatest fear.

Chanting filled the dark room, filling her veins with ice.

Would her brother be waiting for her on the other side? Would incomplete actions in life follow her into the Fade? Would the Maker remind her how foolish she’d been in playing it safe when the risk was worth the reward?

The knife gleamed in the candlelight as it was raised and poised to strike. She closed her eyes on a prayer to the Maker to bring her a swift death.

If only she had more time.

There was a grunt and Cassandra felt the warm thickness of blood spatter across her face. No pain, she silently mused waiting for the heaviness of death to take her. Thank Andraste for that.

Something whistled through the air before there was another grunt and something heavy fell against the alter, scattering the candles and casting the room into total darkness.

“Cassandra?”

Odd, she thought. To hear his voice on the other side of the veil. Or was this the Maker’s way of providing comfort? To ease the transition of death by hearing the one voice she wanted the most in her last moments.

“Someone find the damn keys!”

“I can’t see a fucking thing!”

“Open your eyes. C’mon, Seeker.”

Feeling the familiar touch on her cheek, Cassandra’s eyes shot open to find Aiden’s glowing blue orbs staring down at her. Cassandra’s heart leaped. He found her! Tears burned the back of her throat leaving her incapable of speaking.

“Stand back, Boss,” Bull Commanded. After throwing a lifeless blood mage to the ground, the Qunari raised his massive sword above his head and came down hard against the link holding her chains together. “We need to move. More are coming.”

“Up you go, Seeker.” Aiden snaked an arm around her bare shoulders and lifted.

“You will not take her from us!” The leader roared charging forward through the darkness.

Only Aiden could see the blade going for Cassandra’s heart. Cursing, he dove across the alter, dragging the Seeker along so the blade dragged across his back and not into her chest.

“Get her out of here!” Dorian shouted.

“Hold on to me,” Aiden whispered against her ear. “Don’t let go.”

Cassandra latched her shackled arms around his neck and held on for dear life.

Not known for his strength, Aiden called on all his adrenaline as he pushed to his feet and waded through the small battle raging around the pitch-black room. “Hold on.”

Sun blinded her when they stumbled outside. She had no bearing to where they were or where Aiden was taking her. All she knew was that with him she was safe. And that’s all that mattered. Aiden had come for her. It seemed the Maker was listening to her please after all.

Once he was sure they were safe and no one was flowing them, Aiden fell to his knees, holding Cassandra against him. “Are you okay?”

Cassandra couldn’t seem to find her voice. The man who was beyond terrified of the dark breached its depth to save her. The man, who detested being touched or making any physical contact of any kind, was clutching her for dear life. Overwhelmed with emotions, she buried her face into his scarred throat.

“Are you hurt?” Drawing away, Aiden began to search, needing the reassurance before he went mad with worry. All he could think about was the knife against her throat and the utter terror he felt at the thought he’d been too late.

His hands seemed to be touching her everywhere at once. His warmth and reassurance were the only things keeping her from falling apart. “I’m okay.”

Aiden skimmed his fingers along her throat. “There is blood.”

“Not mine.” Tears began to burn again and this time she let them fall knowing with Aiden she was safe to do so. “Hold me a little bit longer.”

He pulled her tightly against him. “I got you.” Aiden felt her fingers twist in his hair almost as if she was anchoring herself. There was no flash of discomfort or any sickening sensation that hit whenever someone touched him. There was only the overwhelming relief that she was safe and unarmed. “Maker, Cassandra.”

“What took you so long?”

A strangled laugh worked up his emotionally clogged throat. He wasn’t used to feeling so much. To his astonishment, Aiden felt tears prickle at the corner of his eyes. The face she believed that he would come to save her left him breathless. “Had to make the save as dramatic as possible for when the dwarf writes about the grand tale.”

“You cut it a bit close there, Trevelyan.”

“I’m sorry.” Taking her face in his hands, Aiden pressed his brow against hers. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m okay,” She reassured hands drifting over his shoulders. Her brows scrunched together when she felt something damp against her fingers. “Andraste’s light, Aiden! You’re bleeding!”

Aiden twisted trying to catch a glimpse of the wound. “It’s nothing.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

“Everyone okay out here?” Dorian asked pushing through the thick brush they hid behind.

“Blood isn’t hers.” Aden shifted, taking her shackled hands carefully in his. “Did you find the key?”

The mage tugged it from his belt. “Bull and Varric are ensuring no one else is lingering. We need to move out if everyone is able.”

Seeing the great care Aiden was taking in assuring he didn’t cause any more discomfort as he unshackled her nearly made Cassandra weep. He thought of himself as a broken man with nothing by rough edges, yet here he was showing her all the gentleness and comfort in the world. “I can walk.”

“Good.” Dorian handed her a healing potion. “For your wrist until I can heal them properly.”

Once the mage walked off, Aiden shrugged out of his hunting coat and bundled Cassandra in it. “Take the potion,” He softly commanded.

She pushed the vial into his hand. “You need it more than me.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Well, you can’t see your back.”

Aiden shrugged. “I’ve had worse.”

“That does nothing to make me feel better. Especially since you sustained a wound meant for me.”

“I couldn’t… Couldn’t…” Aiden brushed his hand along her blood stained cheek. How could he begin to explain that losing her was a pain that he couldn’t bear when he was still struggling to understand the sheer importance of her in his life.

Seeing emotions flooding his gaze, she clamped a hand over his scarred wrist pleased he hardly flinched. “Aiden.”

“We need to move out,” Varric called out. “In case they have any friends nearby.”

“Drink.”

“We’ll split it.” Cassandra downed half the vial and shoved it back into his hand before he could protest. “Don’t argue, Trevelyan. You’ll never win.”

Chuckling, he swallowed the rest of the potion. “I have no doubt.”

#dragon age #cassandra pentaghast #cassandra x inquisitor #writing #mine #drabbles

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harryandmolly · 4 years

Text

Change of Pace - Epilogue (Late Summer 2019)

cowritten by @achinglyshawn

summary: Shawn and Maya meet again 10 years after life got in the way of love

warnings: language

wc: 3.5k

----------

Shawn doesn’t settle at the piano until the crowd at Emilia’s has grown. The loud chatter echoing in the small restaurant quiets when he turns down the music tinkling through the soundsystem. Heads turn towards the sleek black piano in the corner of the restaurant as he places his well-practiced fingers on the ivory keys.

He speaks into the microphone as he begins to play his favorite melody.

“This is a song about finding love again when you least expect it,” he coos softly, so as not to interrupt anyone who doesn’t care for the live music.

(He’s not sure why you’d come to Emilia’s on a Thursday night if you don’t like live music, but to each their own.)

“Maybe I had too many drinks, but that's just what I needed. I hope that you don't think that what I'm saying sounds conceited…”

Chatter in the restaurant kicks up again, but those closest to him seem willing to forgo conversation for a free concert. It’s quiet in this little corner of Emilia’s, save for the plinking of the piano and the delicate croon of his falsetto.

“When I look across the room, and you're staring right back at me, like somebody told a joke and we're the only ones laughing...”

Maya’s at her new favorite table watching her old favorite guy do his favorite thing. Back in the day, she and Shawn used to cozy up in a booth in the far corner. They could be gross and kiss there without anyone looking at them funny. They were kids.

Shawn plays regularly at Emilia’s now and Maya loves to watch, especially on days like today. Maya’s been in the studio she shares with Shawn since just after her sunrise surf. She’s had one of her first commissions since starting to paint semi-professionally in Avila and spent her whole day focusing on the piece — it’s a landscape, oil on canvas, based on a crumpled old Polaroid the client got from his grandparents of the boardwalk when they lived in Avila years before. It’s nice. Maya’s proud to do it.

She and Shawn expanded his studio when the space next to his came available. Now it’s their studio. Mostly, she adds her artistry to his instruments, adding little painted elements or even much larger ones, like in the case of that first piano Shawn built. She ended up adding a whole gorgeous Avila sunset mural on top. It sold for a lot (!) more than expected. Her business acumen has also helped them in their new ventures together.

Tonight is a welcome break from it, though. They’ve both been working themselves so hard to finish pieces commissioned by some of Margaret’s San Francisco finance friends. But tonight, back at Emilia’s like nothing ever changed and at the same time like they’re brand new, Shawn plays her song.

Not her only song, obviously. He’s written her many over the years. This is the new one, the one he started a decade ago, tripped over through that first hazy summer and finished around the time they decided to move in to Maya’s cottage together. She’s heard it before, whispered into her hair, plucked quietly against the backdrop of sea and sand on their daybed outside. Never like this, in front of a crowd of strangers who mostly all know their story.

Maya watches him smile as he sings the words like he always does, like he has a secret, like he got the girl in the end after all the trouble. It makes her smile too.

Shawn takes a breath, suddenly aware of Maya’s eyes on him from across the room, though he hasn’t looked up since he began playing.

“Don't know why I tried, ‘cause ain't nobody like you, familiar disappointment every single time I do…”

She must’ve tucked into their new favorite table right as he started playing, or else she would’ve pressed a good luck kiss to his temple like she always does before he performs. She insists he doesn’t actually need luck, but they both like the tradition, anyway.

“Every single night my arms are not around you, my mind's still wrapped around you.

Baby, tell me when you're ready, I'm waitin'. Baby, anytime you're ready, I'm waitin'...”

He knows where she is without searching, so when he tilts his head and finally opens his eyes, she’s there, staring him down like he’s something magical she’s never seen before. His face heats, because even after all these years, being the sole focus of Maya’s attention makes his heart race.

He catches her gaze with his and the corner of his mouth ticks up in a tender smile. Memories of the night before race through his mind and send a shiver down his spine; memories of staying up far too late to make love over and over until sleep pulled Maya under, with Shawn easily following.

His breath hitches, but he doesn’t take his eyes off of her as he continues to sing the words he’s already pressed into the curve of her neck while tangled together between their sheets.

“Even ten years from now if you haven't found somebody I promise, I'll be around. Tell me when you're ready, I'm waitin'...”

Maya’s lips switch around a shy smile. She knows, somehow, when he’s looking at her like that, that he’s thinking about last night.

Last night is just the latest in a long thread that they’ve had since reestablishing their relationship. They’re hot and frantic or lazy and sensual and completely perfect. They’re the kind of nights when sleep holds no appeal at all, that touching each other is the only kind of satisfaction they need.

A curl flops over Shawn’s eyes as he plays and sings right at her. She grins for real because she can’t help it and props her chin up in her hand as she watches.

A pair of warm, flabby arms wrap gently around her shoulders and she feels the weight of a chin on her head.

“You know,” Emilia’s gritty voice says softly near Maya’s ear, “I think the two of you are my favorite thing that’s ever happened in this little beach town.”

Maya rubs Emilia’s arm and nods. “I think I agree.”

Emilia winks at him from her perch above Maya’s head. Shawn flushes, still unable to control the rush of blood to his cheeks each time Emilia looks at him with that mysterious twinkle in her eye. He watches the women murmur to one another, and his heart beats a little faster, just enough to feel against his ribcage.

But before the galvanized rhythm can overwhelm him, Shawn closes his eyes and continues to sing. His voice is soft, as though he’s decided to sing the rest of the song to himself. Sometimes it’s the quiet moments with his music that have the most powerful impact on an audience, and more importantly, on the woman he’s in love with.

“And if I have to, I'll wait forever, say the word and I'll change my plans.

Yeah, you know that we fit together, I know your heart like the back of my hand…”

Shawn’s energy shifts. He gets quieter, like he forgets he’s not in the studio playing quietly for her or in their house, sitting at the baby grand piano he built for them as a housewarming gift when he moved in.

But there’s just so long he can go without looking at her. His gaze is drawn to her, as if pulled by a magnetic field so strong he couldn’t fight it if he wanted. His fingers climb along the piano keys while he watches Emilia press her cheek into the top of Maya’s head. It’s his turn to wink, but he directs it at Maya.

“So baby, tell me when you're ready, I'm waitin'. Baby, anytime you're ready, I'm waitin'...”

She giggles at the way Emilia squeals teasingly in her ear. As Shawn’s voice fades out and the song ends, the restaurant claps politely. Maya mimes whistling at him and continues clapping.

Emilia releases her from her loving near stranglehold. Maya tilts her head up at the woman’s face, grinning ear to ear and covered in sunspots.

“Can I have a coffee milkshake with caramel and whipped cream please?”

Emilia tosses her head back and laughs, a big, strong belly laugh that doesn’t match the finer aesthetic she’s created for her still quirky restaurant since the renovation. They don’t even have milkshakes on the menu anymore -- too lowbrow. But Emilia kept the machine. Maya and Shawn are glad she did.

Shawn manages to catch Maya’s request when he’s heading to their table. He grins up at Emilia, slings his arm over Maya’s shoulders and slides into the seat beside her.

“I’ll take a chocolate shake, Em, if it’s not too much trouble.” The smile that splits his lips is as sugary as the treats they’ve ordered. Emilia calls it his ‘popstar smile’ when she’s trying to give him shit, but he thinks she likes it more than she lets on.

The woman shakes her head, but smiles as she wipes her hands on the front of her black apron. “You’re always too much trouble, kid.”

Emilia gives Maya one last look, something Shawn can’t quite read, then scurries back to the kitchen, repinning her curls to the top of her head as she goes.

“So,” he murmurs, angling himself towards Maya, “What were you two talking about? I can only assume it was me.” His nose nudges her temple, lips brushing over the apple of her cheek.

With his heavy arm around her shoulders, Maya curls comfortably into Shawn, resting her hand on his stomach as he peppers her cheek with kisses. She can feel the way he smiles through it, just happy to be close to her. She knows the feeling.

Maya crosses her legs, resting her foot against his calf. She shrugs. “You always think everything is about you. You’re not the sun.”

She’s teasing. He knows she was talking about him anyway. She moves some floppy curls out of his eyes.

“She just loves us, that’s all.”

“Everyone seems to love us these days, don’t they?” he asks with a smile.

Maya and Shawn are a bit of local lore. The town is small and it talks. Everyone knows about the guy who owned the workshop whose long lost love came back to where they spent a few weeks in love one summer, and how the beach brought them back together. They’re not too nosy, but Maya and Shawn are noticed, and not just by Emilia.

She brings them their milkshakes, making a silly show of pretending to hide them so the other customers won’t wonder where they came from.

Shawn nearly moans. The milkshakes are beautifully decorated, with a smooth caramel drizzle topping Maya’s whipped cream, and a deep brown ribbon of chocolate swirled around his own.

“Em,” he says with a laugh, “If you wanted to be inconspicuous with these, you shouldn’t’ve made them so pretty.” Shawn grabs his spoon and digs into the homemade whip Em always keeps around just in case he and Maya stop by.

“Maybe,” hums Emilia, “But y’all deserve a nice treat every now and then.” With that, she drops a kiss to the top of Maya’s head and shuffles off to the busy kitchen.

“She’s spoiling you rotten, Lemon,” Shawn garbles around a spoonful of milkshake. As he swallows, his mouth stretches into a wide, close-lipped smile, his cheeks ruddy, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “But I don’t think I can blame her.”

Maya rolls her eyes, swallowing her own enormous mouthful of espresso-y goodness. She winces at the slight brain freeze and shakes her head quickly before answering.

“Spoiling you, too. She gave you extra whip, I can tell,” Maya accuses playfully, jabbing her spoon at his overflowing glass.

She settles back into his arm and continues poking at her own shake. The restaurant is lively tonight, warm with conversation and good energy. Emilia’s is almost always like that. It’s why she and Shawn love it so much. She may even miss it while they’re gone.

“How much do you have packed?” Maya asks him carefully after swallowing, narrowing her eyes.

They leave for Greece tomorrow. Three weeks of beach hopping around the coast, exploring little towns, enjoying history, even taking some sailing lessons in the Mediterranean.

Maya herself has barely packed. But he doesn’t need to know that.

Shawn wipes a dribble of chocolate from the corner of his mouth. He tilts his head, swirls his spoon in his glass so the rest of his whipped cream mixes with the shake.

“Packed? For what?” he asks with a quirk of his brow. He keeps his gaze trained on his glass, the most promising method for maintaining his silly rouse.

A bag full of light summer linens packed specifically for Greece is stashed on his side of the walk-in, where it’s been for a few weeks now. Shawn’s been eager to get away with Maya since even before they bought the plane tickets. Packing his bag so early was a cathartic release for the frantic energy of his anticipation.

He certainly has more to pack, though. It’s hard, however, when every free moment he has tends to be occupied by efforts to make his girlfriend come as much as possible.

Maya rolls her eyes and swallows a mouthful of ice cream, elbowing him softly.

“For what, he asks. Like you’re not counting the seconds.”

They both are. They both have been. They don’t lead extraordinarily stressful lives, but they’ve been pushing hard lately. They took on their first commissioned project together, a harp with an intricate design described and ordered by a doting grandfather for his granddaughter. He sent to pick it up yesterday and called the studio to relay his effusive praise personally, letting them know it would not be his last purchase and he wanted to tell all his friends about them.

Now that that project is done, they’re ready for vacation. Maya herself still has some things to toss into a bag. She’s packing light, though. Staying in a series of villas around Greece with Shawn doesn’t call for much in the way of clothes. Some light, breezy dresses, plenty of bikinis, and not much else.

She can’t fucking wait.

She finishes the milkshake with a deeply contented sigh and presses her cool lips to the side of his neck.

“What are you most excited about?” she coos, the same question she’s asked over and over since they booked the trip -- a fun way to anticipate and daydream as they prepared for their first vacation together since they came to Avila as kids.

Shawn hums. He pushes his own empty glass away and curls his arm tighter around Maya’s shoulders, tipping his head so his cheek brushes the top of hers.

“I think--” the word is drawn out, as if he really has to consider what might possibly excite him during their trip, “I think I’m most excited about finding a little cafe where you’ll jump up on the table and start singing Dancing Queen to me. Or Mamma Mia. Whichever fits the cafe scene better.”

Shawn smiles into the kiss he presses to Maya’s head. The scent of her coconut milk shampoo floods his senses and he sighs, content to spend the rest of his life with his nose buried in her hair. As much as he’s looking forward to their trip, nothing beats being nestled together at their favorite table in their favorite restaurant, full of their favorite milkshakes.

Maya snorts. “Gonna have to feed me a lot of ouzo to get that to happen.”

She has no doubt there will be a lot of ouzo and a lot of cafes. But if Shawn wants Maya singing in public, he’s also going to have to smile real pretty. Which, as it turns out, he’s an expert at.

One of their regular waiters drops the check on their table. Maya lets Shawn put down his card because she’s footing most of their vacation bill, since it was her idea.

“What about you, Lemon?”

“I thiiiiink,” she teases him with a smile, running her fingers against the back of his neck, “Probably all the skinny dipping we’re gonna do in the Adriatic. Or Mediterranean, either or. I’m not picky.”

She nips his jaw and reaches for her purse to stand. They have more to pack, so it’s probably time to be heading back. Maya blows Emilia a kiss and catches the one she sends in return. She makes a mental note to find her a nice gift while they’re abroad.

“I don’t know about skinny dipping, Lu,” Shawn muses as he guides her out of the restaurant, aiming a friendly wave over his shoulder to Emilia as she bustles around the main dining room. “Those European seas get pretty chilly. And I’ve got precious cargo to protect.”

She almost chokes on a breath.

“Did you just refer to your cock and balls as precious cargo? Not that I’m disagreeing, but Jesus, Shawn,” she laughs, squeezing his hand playfully.

Shawn grins, the dimple in his chin popping out. “Bad joke? It was Geoff’s, first. Blame him.”

He swings their joined hands between them, making sure to keep his pace at a leisurely stroll while they head down the boardwalk. Sure, there’s some packing to do, but Shawn’s not in a rush. The sun hasn’t even set. The breeze is warm, salty, perfect. Maybe Maya will go for an evening surf before they have to get down to business.

The waves swell, roll in, crash, retreat.

Maya finds herself slowing her pace to match his. Sometimes she catches herself power walking around this sleepy beach town like it’s Manhattan at rush hour and she has to remind herself to slow down. There’s no need for that anymore, and Maya is so grateful that he’s here to help keep her from sprinting through life.

Maya admires the way his curls rumple in the shore breeze. He squints adorably through the golden hour sun. She thinks about painting him this way and wonders if she could ever hope to capture the colors accurately.

Shawn turns so he’s walking backwards ahead of Maya, their hands still clasped together. “You wanna go for a surf? You didn’t get out there this morning.”

She shrugs and plays with his fingers while they walk. “Maybe. Kind of just want to stay on land with you.”

He watches her bend and stretch his fingers as he continues his backwards trek. She studies his face, and he knows she’s got her artist eyes on from the contemplative intensity of her gaze. He stays focused on their linked fingers. A look like that from Maya is full of weight Shawn’s not sure he understands.

He comes close, though, when he writes music about her.

“Do we have to pack right away?” he asks eventually, swinging around to walk forward again when they near the house. “Let’s get stranded on the beach for a little. Watch the sunset. If no one’s around, I could make you come.”

Shawn’s itching with the need to savor this last night in Avila, because it feels as though tomorrow will change them. They’ll be a different couple on the other end of this trip. He’s eager for it, to really begin his life with her, but he’s not in any rush.

They have the time for another sunset.

Maya’s eyebrows lift. “Well, I certainly think I could make time for that in our very busy, very official pre-travel schedule.”

Maybe they’ll be up late throwing clothes into a bag, dazed and smiley after spending another several hours in bed like they’re prone to do. Maya doesn’t mind. It’s always worth it with him.

They live far enough off the boardwalk to avoid most foot traffic. The house is quiet but warm -- they left a few lights on when they left for dinner, giving it a cozy glow. Maya looks up at it with pride. It was the best thing she’s ever done for herself, buying this house. And now it belongs to them both. It feels right.

The sun is starting to dip below the horizon when they arrive out on the beach in front of the house. She stops and drapes his arms around her shoulders like he’s a blanket, facing them toward the sunset. She looks down at their feet, hers between his, and traces her toe around the inside of his foot.

“Love you,” she murmurs softly. Maya’s not afraid to say it. She saves it for the most special occasions, and for some beautiful, cosmic reason, this feels like one.

Her gentle words push his heart into his throat. His pulse is loud— drum drum drum— in his ears, and he hides his satisfied smirk in her neck.

She makes him feel painfully twenty-one again with such simple words.

But he’s not twenty-one anymore, and he’s pretty fucking glad for it. He was a huge idiot back then, even if he did fall in love with the right girl. He’s better at loving her now, with his newfound, middle-aged wisdom.

“I know,” he growls into her neck when he manages to find his voice. He bites at her throat, then kisses his way to her ear. “Now stop bragging about it, Lemon, and watch the sunset with me.”

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Thank you for joining @achinglyshawn and I on such a special journey! We loved sharing this story with you and appreciate every message, like, or reblog. 💜 wishing you all safety and love.

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