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thenearshore2019-06-01 05:16 pm
hypomeneo) wrote in thenearshore2019-06-01 05:16 pm
(no subject)
Who: Waver and You! (with a closed prompt for Iskandar)
When: May 25
Where: The Western District, at and around Iskandar's Temple
What: Murder chickens, the end result of three months of spell crafting, and apotheosis. Only two of these three things are related
Warnings: Mentions of ritual animal sacrifice, discussions and descriptions of death, more warnings in comments
Rooster Rumble
[On this late spring morning, a murderous war cry (aka a rooster's crow) rings out over the Far Shore, followed by swears coloring the air blue. Clearly nothing to worry about – you're just passing through minding your own business and the war between man and chicken isn't your war! Or you have business at Iskandar's Temple for one reason or another… and if you do, you probably know to beware the birds (and sheep) by now – and uuhh… it totally isn't your problem… sorry, Waver, you're on your own! Right?!
Then it completely is your problem as the fluffiest rooster alive bursts from the bushes right for you, wickedly long and sharp talons out and screaming for fire and blood. Starting with your blood. Followed by Waver, bleeding and tiredly snarling for its blood.]
DON'T LET THAT BLOODY BIRD TAKE A RUNNER!
[Flee, fight and catch the murder bird, or fall to its claws. What will you do?]
A Well Deserved Rest
[If you come by later in the day… there's less chance of rooster attacks. Suspiciously zero chance. And every chance of finding Waver near dozing on the Temple stairs, a bottle of wine by his side, one leather bound book at his feet along with a knife, and a look of smug, smug satisfaction on his face.
That's probably due to the faintly glowing sigils and geometric designs slowly absorbing into the rock and trees of the grounds until there’s not a trace of them at all. Something similar is happening within the Temple itself; elaborate magic circles and grids girdled with arcane scripts and formulas centered around the sacred fire being drunk up by the building itself like wine. The scent of incense blows out the door.]
Three whole months to put the damn mess together. [Sleepy.] Worth it…
[What did he set up? Ask him. Or stop him from taking a tumble down the stairs, because he's starting to completely conk out in three… two… one…]
But We All Must Wake Back To Our Lives – closed to Iskandar
[The disappearance happens in the middle of the night, when both Iskandar and Waver have slipped unconscious. Through it all, Waver dreams...
...
...
...
In the end, things come full circle.
It is now Waver's turn to meet his death on a bridge as Chaldea falls, as the Master and Mashu make their desperate flight toward the underground hanger, and delay Kotomine Kirei from catching up before they can make their escape. There's more than one hangar in Chaldea, however. This one is in the East Wing, and here Waver intercepts the priest, now a Pseudo-Servant just like him, above the vehicles parked on the floor. The unknown girl, also a Servant, is not here, though her ice is everywhere. That sadistic excuse for a woman is also absent. The only ones joining them are the corpses of mercenaries belonging that arrogant idiot Gordolf Musik. They're sprawled everywhere, riddled with bullets.
Che. Some fool had even brought a sword; it lies on Kirei's side of their battleground. Not that there's more than scant moments for noticing such things...
They all were right in their suspicions. The Incineration of Humanity by Goetia was just a prelude, a reaction to this, an invasion to erase the world and Pan-Human History outside piece by piece...
Waver had always known that surviving this Grand Order would be extremely slim, even if his status as a Pseudo-Servant promised him the hope of resurrection. Accepted it. But it's somewhat bitterly poetic that it's this end, on a bridge, against the former Master of Gilgamesh. His lips twist as he watches Kirei kiss his cross and he knows his strategy. Get him talking, drag this out...
"Father Kotomine Kirei... what an unexpected pleasure." Waver's voice drips venon and sarcasm in equal measure, "Death's never been able to keep you from salivating at the possibility of apocalypse. You must be savoring this meal."
Dead since the Fourth War, but always, always coming back. Waver tracks the flight of the Master, Mashu, Da Vinci, and Musik to Holmes and the rest of Chaldea's staff in his mind. There are other enemy Servants about, but this one can not be allowed to interfere. The priest is far more dangerous than anyone suspects.
"There is joy in doing the good work, Caster. Or should I say Lord El-Melloi II," Kirei's eyes narrow thoughtfully, trying to place him, "To encounter one of twelve Lords of Mage Association here... indeed, I savor it." There's something twisted in the look, "Rejoice. When all has passed, all your kind have wished for will be be restored."
"The Age of Gods? Mystery?" Waver can't help but laugh, "Is that what's being told to those poor addled children? Wipe the memory of Pan-Human History and its people from the World and you can build on its bloody bones a better tomorrow. A second chance. Please."
It feels like eternity stretches between them as humanity disappears outside in every place, in every time. Each word, each movement, each breath of theirs bears down heavier and heavier upon the remaining fabric of history and scars it as individuals dwindle and Waver feels that weight settle on his shoulders.
"It has always been the duty of adults to educate the children in their care. You know that well. Sometimes reality is harsh, and though trampling such a dream will bring some measure of pain to my heart, it must be done."
Now it comes to it; Kirei's drawing black keys, Waver his fan. They will be fighting in moments.
"You think a dream eventually fades when the dreamer wakes to that? I heard such a notion once long ago, from another I'm sure you'd get along with. Some dreams are so flimsy, yes. But some... Reality is harsh, Kotomine. That we can agree.
One day you'll awake to discover some dreams refuse to die. Including humanity's."
It clicks on Kirei's face.
"... the former Master of the King of Conquerors, Waver Velvet. I thought you dead. Here you are Lord of the El-Melloi instead." The priest smiles cruelly. "Facing me. If I had realized this was to be such a momentous occasion, I would have brought and offered you wine before we start."
Waver scoffs. "Pass. I wouldn't share a cup with you even if you brought his treasured reserves," as mana surges within for this final battle, "Let's get this over with."
It begins and there's only one hope of victory. To hold the line as long as he can, to allow the others to make it, to escape... for that dream of humanity and history to continue on. Noble Phantasms clash, spells and pure mana rock the hanger, and debris falls from the ceiling. More blood begins to paint the hangar red.
It's a bridge and he's a Caster, and he has no close combat skills. Just his wits and creativity. He lasts longer than he should, but he takes hit after hit by black keys, scored open and bleeding, one blade impaling him through the shoulder, another through the side. It alone is enough to guarantee his death, and he staggers, catching the railing, refusing to fall and rallying himself to continue the fight.
Then Kirei's in front of him, the discarded sword he noticed earlier in hand.
Blood erupts from his mouth as Kirei runs the blade through his heart, piercing the two fused spirit cores sustaining him. It feels... cold. Like fire eating him up, but... cold.
His body begins to break apart into mana, particles rising in the air. While it's possible for him to leave a corpse in some circumstances, it's equally possible for this to happen. It's a filmy realization as Waver feels Zhuge Liang's core within him fragment, the sense of him disappearing, while all the rest lingers behind still fused to dissolve with him.
There's a thunder in his ears. It sounds like waves crashing on a distant shore. Eternity presses down, the World takes hold, and he feels... cut from the tethers of some cruel cycle. Engraved and beckoned home, to some far distant shore.
He can only hope it's enough, as everything goes numb and the pain vanishes to the background. Can only hope it's enough... that this sacrifice buys the Master's escape and their eventual victory. Kirei fades away, speaking though Waver does not hear, and before it all goes dark, he sees that vision of that misty shore, and one man in particular by the waves...
"...Rider..."]
RIDER!
[Waver shoots upward, disoriented, clutching his chest. He's in a strange bed, peering through the darkness at a strange room, and he can't sense the familiar wash of energy of Ri--Iskandar. The room is filled with whispers, or maybe that's just in his head, of people praying for help. Beneath his fingers, his formerly dead heart pounds.
It is that realization, along with the crash of an entire life through his skull, and one other - the one he's been holding back for three months, that sends him spinning into hyperventilation. How long as he been gone? How long has he been gone? Christ, is Rid... Iskandar, here? DID HE LEAVE HIS KING ALONE?
... panic seizes him, and he ignores the fact that apparently now he's a god, and apparently Iskandar's had access to his memories, and apparently he's not going to fall and turn into a malignant multi-eyed monstrosity or have to kill himself to avoid said fang and claw fate or anything where his inevitable death's in the cards. No. The only thought that consumes him is what the hell happened when Rider, no, Iskandar... his king and lover... found out he was gone?! Did... he...
Terror sends him tumbling out of the bed, and terror causes involuntary teleportation in his need to get Iskandar's side, and he crashes to the familiar stone floor in front of the sacred fire of Iskandar's Temple. He groans, stunned and feeling like his entire body has been dragged through thorn bushes as he looks up.]
... Rider...
[Not Iskandar's room, but.
Oh. Is he going to have Temple problems?]
Please. For Christ's sake. Not today. For his sake. Not bloody today.
[And with that he pushes himself up and heads for Iskandar's room.]
When: May 25
Where: The Western District, at and around Iskandar's Temple
What: Murder chickens, the end result of three months of spell crafting, and apotheosis. Only two of these three things are related
Warnings: Mentions of ritual animal sacrifice, discussions and descriptions of death, more warnings in comments
Rooster Rumble
[On this late spring morning, a murderous war cry (aka a rooster's crow) rings out over the Far Shore, followed by swears coloring the air blue. Clearly nothing to worry about – you're just passing through minding your own business and the war between man and chicken isn't your war! Or you have business at Iskandar's Temple for one reason or another… and if you do, you probably know to beware the birds (and sheep) by now – and uuhh… it totally isn't your problem… sorry, Waver, you're on your own! Right?!
Then it completely is your problem as the fluffiest rooster alive bursts from the bushes right for you, wickedly long and sharp talons out and screaming for fire and blood. Starting with your blood. Followed by Waver, bleeding and tiredly snarling for its blood.]
DON'T LET THAT BLOODY BIRD TAKE A RUNNER!
[Flee, fight and catch the murder bird, or fall to its claws. What will you do?]
A Well Deserved Rest
[If you come by later in the day… there's less chance of rooster attacks. Suspiciously zero chance. And every chance of finding Waver near dozing on the Temple stairs, a bottle of wine by his side, one leather bound book at his feet along with a knife, and a look of smug, smug satisfaction on his face.
That's probably due to the faintly glowing sigils and geometric designs slowly absorbing into the rock and trees of the grounds until there’s not a trace of them at all. Something similar is happening within the Temple itself; elaborate magic circles and grids girdled with arcane scripts and formulas centered around the sacred fire being drunk up by the building itself like wine. The scent of incense blows out the door.]
Three whole months to put the damn mess together. [Sleepy.] Worth it…
[What did he set up? Ask him. Or stop him from taking a tumble down the stairs, because he's starting to completely conk out in three… two… one…]
But We All Must Wake Back To Our Lives – closed to Iskandar
[The disappearance happens in the middle of the night, when both Iskandar and Waver have slipped unconscious. Through it all, Waver dreams...
...
...
...
In the end, things come full circle.
It is now Waver's turn to meet his death on a bridge as Chaldea falls, as the Master and Mashu make their desperate flight toward the underground hanger, and delay Kotomine Kirei from catching up before they can make their escape. There's more than one hangar in Chaldea, however. This one is in the East Wing, and here Waver intercepts the priest, now a Pseudo-Servant just like him, above the vehicles parked on the floor. The unknown girl, also a Servant, is not here, though her ice is everywhere. That sadistic excuse for a woman is also absent. The only ones joining them are the corpses of mercenaries belonging that arrogant idiot Gordolf Musik. They're sprawled everywhere, riddled with bullets.
Che. Some fool had even brought a sword; it lies on Kirei's side of their battleground. Not that there's more than scant moments for noticing such things...
They all were right in their suspicions. The Incineration of Humanity by Goetia was just a prelude, a reaction to this, an invasion to erase the world and Pan-Human History outside piece by piece...
Waver had always known that surviving this Grand Order would be extremely slim, even if his status as a Pseudo-Servant promised him the hope of resurrection. Accepted it. But it's somewhat bitterly poetic that it's this end, on a bridge, against the former Master of Gilgamesh. His lips twist as he watches Kirei kiss his cross and he knows his strategy. Get him talking, drag this out...
"Father Kotomine Kirei... what an unexpected pleasure." Waver's voice drips venon and sarcasm in equal measure, "Death's never been able to keep you from salivating at the possibility of apocalypse. You must be savoring this meal."
Dead since the Fourth War, but always, always coming back. Waver tracks the flight of the Master, Mashu, Da Vinci, and Musik to Holmes and the rest of Chaldea's staff in his mind. There are other enemy Servants about, but this one can not be allowed to interfere. The priest is far more dangerous than anyone suspects.
"There is joy in doing the good work, Caster. Or should I say Lord El-Melloi II," Kirei's eyes narrow thoughtfully, trying to place him, "To encounter one of twelve Lords of Mage Association here... indeed, I savor it." There's something twisted in the look, "Rejoice. When all has passed, all your kind have wished for will be be restored."
"The Age of Gods? Mystery?" Waver can't help but laugh, "Is that what's being told to those poor addled children? Wipe the memory of Pan-Human History and its people from the World and you can build on its bloody bones a better tomorrow. A second chance. Please."
It feels like eternity stretches between them as humanity disappears outside in every place, in every time. Each word, each movement, each breath of theirs bears down heavier and heavier upon the remaining fabric of history and scars it as individuals dwindle and Waver feels that weight settle on his shoulders.
"It has always been the duty of adults to educate the children in their care. You know that well. Sometimes reality is harsh, and though trampling such a dream will bring some measure of pain to my heart, it must be done."
Now it comes to it; Kirei's drawing black keys, Waver his fan. They will be fighting in moments.
"You think a dream eventually fades when the dreamer wakes to that? I heard such a notion once long ago, from another I'm sure you'd get along with. Some dreams are so flimsy, yes. But some... Reality is harsh, Kotomine. That we can agree.
One day you'll awake to discover some dreams refuse to die. Including humanity's."
It clicks on Kirei's face.
"... the former Master of the King of Conquerors, Waver Velvet. I thought you dead. Here you are Lord of the El-Melloi instead." The priest smiles cruelly. "Facing me. If I had realized this was to be such a momentous occasion, I would have brought and offered you wine before we start."
Waver scoffs. "Pass. I wouldn't share a cup with you even if you brought his treasured reserves," as mana surges within for this final battle, "Let's get this over with."
It begins and there's only one hope of victory. To hold the line as long as he can, to allow the others to make it, to escape... for that dream of humanity and history to continue on. Noble Phantasms clash, spells and pure mana rock the hanger, and debris falls from the ceiling. More blood begins to paint the hangar red.
It's a bridge and he's a Caster, and he has no close combat skills. Just his wits and creativity. He lasts longer than he should, but he takes hit after hit by black keys, scored open and bleeding, one blade impaling him through the shoulder, another through the side. It alone is enough to guarantee his death, and he staggers, catching the railing, refusing to fall and rallying himself to continue the fight.
Then Kirei's in front of him, the discarded sword he noticed earlier in hand.
Blood erupts from his mouth as Kirei runs the blade through his heart, piercing the two fused spirit cores sustaining him. It feels... cold. Like fire eating him up, but... cold.
His body begins to break apart into mana, particles rising in the air. While it's possible for him to leave a corpse in some circumstances, it's equally possible for this to happen. It's a filmy realization as Waver feels Zhuge Liang's core within him fragment, the sense of him disappearing, while all the rest lingers behind still fused to dissolve with him.
There's a thunder in his ears. It sounds like waves crashing on a distant shore. Eternity presses down, the World takes hold, and he feels... cut from the tethers of some cruel cycle. Engraved and beckoned home, to some far distant shore.
He can only hope it's enough, as everything goes numb and the pain vanishes to the background. Can only hope it's enough... that this sacrifice buys the Master's escape and their eventual victory. Kirei fades away, speaking though Waver does not hear, and before it all goes dark, he sees that vision of that misty shore, and one man in particular by the waves...
"...Rider..."]
RIDER!
[Waver shoots upward, disoriented, clutching his chest. He's in a strange bed, peering through the darkness at a strange room, and he can't sense the familiar wash of energy of Ri--Iskandar. The room is filled with whispers, or maybe that's just in his head, of people praying for help. Beneath his fingers, his formerly dead heart pounds.
It is that realization, along with the crash of an entire life through his skull, and one other - the one he's been holding back for three months, that sends him spinning into hyperventilation. How long as he been gone? How long has he been gone? Christ, is Rid... Iskandar, here? DID HE LEAVE HIS KING ALONE?
... panic seizes him, and he ignores the fact that apparently now he's a god, and apparently Iskandar's had access to his memories, and apparently he's not going to fall and turn into a malignant multi-eyed monstrosity or have to kill himself to avoid said fang and claw fate or anything where his inevitable death's in the cards. No. The only thought that consumes him is what the hell happened when Rider, no, Iskandar... his king and lover... found out he was gone?! Did... he...
Terror sends him tumbling out of the bed, and terror causes involuntary teleportation in his need to get Iskandar's side, and he crashes to the familiar stone floor in front of the sacred fire of Iskandar's Temple. He groans, stunned and feeling like his entire body has been dragged through thorn bushes as he looks up.]
... Rider...
[Not Iskandar's room, but.
Oh. Is he going to have Temple problems?]
Please. For Christ's sake. Not today. For his sake. Not bloody today.
[And with that he pushes himself up and heads for Iskandar's room.]
no subject
He has never felt so at home as this moment right now.]
My king. [He caresses Iskandar's face, still caught up in a sea of emotion.] Iskandar. I'm finally fully home to you. I've missed you so!
no subject
[Yes. Waver is not a boy anymore and Iskandar knows this. Yet he waited so long for a safe chance to say this. A little factual inaccuracy is not going to stop him now. He smiles.]
Welcome home, my love. Welcome home.
[It doesn’t matter how much time they’ll have together but to have Waver here fully aware, fully present... It’s already enough for him. The freedom of not needing to hide, not needing to censor his affection lest he mentions something from their shared past and all hell breaks loose. This is a miracle in itself. Iskandar feels as if a weight of the whole world has been lifted from his shoulders. As if he was suffocating until now and he can breath at last.]
no subject
He still feels the knife of the fall against his neck, though the phantom press by slow degrees is fading to less and less. He's lived with it so long, it'll take time for it to completely break its hold on him, but he can breathe now. He can relearn it's safe to simply be - to think, to feel, to enjoy the pleasures of simple conversation and exploration again.
A second chance. It's a sudden realization. Like it's always touted shinki get.]
I'm glad I got back so quickly. [He keeps his hand pressed where it is.] I was afraid I was gone longer. Days.
no subject
Nah. Only a couple of hours. I slept [miraculously] through for most of it.
[He smiles.]
You have fallen asleep on the couch and didn't even finish your supper. I carried you to bed. [As he'd done countless times before.] Everything looked pretty normal so I wasn't even worried when I didn't find you there when I finally finished all my business with the guild.
[Iskandar lets out a sigh. How odd...]
I thought that maybe you got hungry and went to the kitchen. I didn't notice anything.
[Iskandar's A+ luck kicked in at last. There's no way to tell what he could possibly do if he realised then what he realised when he woke up. Iskandar tries not to think about it. There's no need. He knows himself. It wouldn't be pretty.
Fortunately, that did not happen. After three months of slowly increasing agony things are starting to look better.]
no subject
[A beat.]
... besides, I was always hungry. All shinki are. [Now amusement shapes the smile slightly.] It's not like midnight fridge raids were uncommon with me.
[... and tapers off, back to soft concerned relief.]
But I'm glad. I was scared of you waking up and not being there. Scared of... what a lot of things would do to you. [And then there's pain in it even if the relief is plain to see, because it's obvious Waver has an idea too. There's a pause.] ... it... didn't quite shock me waking up like this, you know? I always knew what I came in as wasn't right.
no subject
I’d say the trips to the fridge in the middle of the night are quite the pattern in this house.
[Not needing food to sustain himself did nothing to stop Iskandar’s voracious appetite. He eats because he likes to. It’s different with shinki. More like a compulsion if his observations are right. Their bodies may not need it and yet shinki are always hungry... but then... Waver was never just a shinki.]
Fortunately, none of those things happened. Don’t weigh yourself with things that might have been. I’m here, you’re here, we will be fine.
This ... [He pauses searching for a word good enough to describe the good and the horrible of those last months. He finds none.] all of it, it was always too small for you. You were destined to outgrow it from the very beginning. I just wish the whole process was less painful.
[Outgrow... or die but Iskandar won’t say it. He would never say it. It’s over. They both worried about the constant threat of it long enough. They deserve to stop worrying now. There’s no need to mull over the disaster that didn’t happen. No matter how many times and how close they were to the edge.]
And you did.
[There he stops. Time will come when they will discuss the whole ordeal in detail. It's inevitable. Waver is going to deconstruct his experience, analyze it to the very core, take apart into constituents... and Iskandar finally doesn't have to stop him from doing so. It's his way of understanding things. It's how he gains his extraordinary insight.
One hand he raises to weave his fingers into the silken strands of Waver’s hair but there he finds an obstacle. It’s not one of many mana-storing accessories in Waver's possession. It's something different, something more delicate. How appropriate...]
Hm? What’s that?
[Iskandar pulls out a slightly squashed blue flower that got tangled in Waver’s hair. His eyes light up in recognition.]
Blue lotus? Is your Temple Egyptian by any chance?
[Wreaths of blue lotus were a common offering to the gods in Egypt while he was there. He remembers himself offering several of them to Amun.]
no subject
[Food is a new vice for Waver. His smile remains as he mulls over his old habits from life; sleep and food often got put to the side for the duty of work or the habit of study. But compulsion is the right of it.
When you are a hungry ghost... were a hungry ghost...
Put it behind... Waver's fingers brush Iskandar's cheek at that... don't let it drag at you. He sighs softly.]
That's a good way to put it. Growth.
[He once asked Gray if human beings were capable of growth. Both of them facing their realities, in that church, desperately desiring a way out. 'I want to change.' Not acceptance, not growth on any shallow level, not forgetting, but true growth, true change, to leave behind the things they were and the things that hurt them, growth that changed the soul and their very natures. The answer then is different from the answer now.]
... you're right about that as well. It was... small. And everything I wasn't.
I finally have space to breathe.
[They'll talk a little later about that. It's perhaps best not touched right away, but it has to be dealt with, given everything. As things further settle in, as memory sorts itself out, the things that death has wrought in him start to rise to full attention, and it's attention he can now give it. He feels different. Is he a Pseudo-Servant still? Is he a full Servant now? He still has Zhuge Liang's... everything, but his personality's presence is completely gone in a way that even dormancy can't explain. He's still Caster.
... and the rising nervousness and dread of telling Iskandar all that has happened through the years is countered by the possibility he already knows all, from Reines, to the ordeal with Faker and his predecessor and Iskandar's ascension to a Divine Spirit, to the Singularity of the Fourth War. And the way he is touching him now, as he always has, and their entire relationship here is his answer.
And it is staggering and comforting and all too big to wrap his head around yet and fills his heart.
(But his heart will freeze as soon as he considers every shinki beyond him... and the possibility of those memories being seen by anyone but Iskandar without his knowledge.)
He smiles a little sheepishly as the flower's pulled out of his hair. He didn't even notice that getting stuck in there.
... honestly, there's more than one to be seen.]
... I have no idea? I just woke up in a dark room, hearing... well, I think they were prayers. All I knew was I needed to get to you, I panicked, and the next thing I knew I was crashing to ground in front of the sacred fire.
I don't know which god I am.
[He touches the flower gently as he cuddles closer to Iskandar, just basking in the contact and sense of him. It's sacred in a lot of religions. Most prominently Hinduism and Buddhism in this corner of the world - symbolic of purity, resurrection, rebirth, and enlightenment. The blue lotus in the latter is the symbol of victory. In the vein of the spirit over the senses, of intelligence and wisdom, of knowledge.
Of memory.
(Odysseus rejected lotus eating after all)]
But if this is a clue, I would lean as much towards the Buddhist interpretation of this flower as the Egyptian.
no subject
I would never bar you access to the fridge but I thought maybe we could go to some nice restaurant instead? Even in the middle of the night if you’d like.
[Waver not knowing which god he is is no problem at all. They’ll find out. He should at least appear on the contact list. Finding his Temple might require more effort. Still, a simple walk around the district should be enough to determine which Temple appeared overnight.
Then he remembers. ]
Speaking of celebration.
[He wraps his arm securely around Waver’s waist not to let him fall off the bed while he reaches to the nightstand. He retrieves a small, black box from one of the drawers and presents it to Waver.]
I intended to give you this for a while now but was waiting for an appropriate occasion. I don’t think there will be a better one than today.
[Inside Waver would find a simple ring carved from red jade with an inscription in Greek saying “He whom love touches walks not in darkness”.]
no subject
Three months cold turkey has loosed nicotine's hold on him and perhaps he doesn't need to resume the habit.]
I will never turn down any nice restaurant. Especially not now.
Just let me get dressed first. I want to - ... oh?
[Pointing out he's literally in his underwear and even if they're invisible to most mortals on the Near Shore, he'd still die of embarrassment (just... not as much... his king's been steadily knocking the shame right out of him) and he wants to look nice for Iskandar.
And Iskandar reaches for the nightstand, and pulls out a small black box, and Waver's mind suddenly, maybe irrationally, seizes because small black box, small black box... he knows what small black boxes usually contain and god (stop, Waver Velvet, you and Iskandar are both gods) there's a loaded subject and no... Iskandar is not asking that.
(and he'd blurt yes without thinking)
He opens it.]
I-I - it's beautiful.
[Flustering, red from head from foot, he traces the inscription, smile wobbling. “He whom love touches walks not in darkness”. It's not that, but it feels like that, and it doesn't matter because the promise of that is just as deep.
(He has a little black box for him too)
He slides the ring onto the ring finger of his left hand, grasping for further words, and instead hauls Iskandar into a series of kisses, pouring all his feelings into them so his lover doesn't need a link to know exactly what they are.]
no subject
[That sentence doesn't get finished because suddenly Waver is kissing him and all conscious thought leaves Iskandar. A low growl, like a thunder's rumble, originating somewhere deep inside his chest is the answer as he rolls them over until Waver is under him sinking in the soft mattres. His kisses mirroring Waver's in intensity. His hands freeing Waver of his underwear.
So you wanted to get dressed? Not going to happen anytime soon. He has another kind of hunger to satisfy now. If you're going to kiss him like this expect he'll treat it as an invitation.
It would be miracle if this bed survives the night.]
NSFW
The sound of wood continuing to slowly crack is swallowed by the groan of the bedsprings as their weight settles in one spot. Waver lifts his hips to help Iskandar free him of his boxers, winding his arms around him and stroking one finger down the bump of vertebrae at the nape of his king's neck.]
Iskandar... καρδιά μου...
[And you are mine. My light, my king, my home, Waver thinks as his lips travel Iskandar's jawline, his beard softly brushing Waver's own skin. There was darkness, but because you were there it couldn't take me. I wouldn't let it.
His legs spread once freed, and Waver pulls Iskandar closer.]
Very NSFW
Waver...
[He falls down on him like a falcon falls onto its prey. Equally he falls and is pulled down. No more it's his need to slip between those slender thighs than it's Waver's desire to draw him in. Flesh to flesh, skin to skin, yearning for contact, sharing the the fire that burns between them, rythm of their love is as powerful as the sea.]
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Each an act of thanks and gratitude for being allowed this and to remember again.]
... oh... you feel so, so good...
[He's caught again as they move together, as Waver's fingers clutch at Iskandar's shoulder blade, as Waver arches up into Iskandar with a moan of ecstasy, at this miracle, and it spurs the fire within him even hotter. It makes for a desperately horny man wanting union in every way.]
Please...
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Oh, it’s going to feel even better.
[He whispers as his hands go down, slipping between their rocking hips, spreading Waver’s legs even wider.]
A lot, lot better.
[It takes no small amount of acrobatics to retrieve a small bottle from the nightstand. It would require less if Iskandar would accept letting go of the man under him. He does not. He abhors even the thought of it. He wouldn’t sacrifice even a second without touch, even an inch of contact.
He wants to savour him like the most exquisite wine, extract his tribute from those lips, those arms and thighs. Until they’re both exhausted and spent, until the last drop, the last breath, last thought, last twitch of muscle, last flare of desire.
But then he manages to accomplish his mission and the air fills with sweet scent of rose oil and heavy smell of sandalwood. Iskandar empties the content of the bottle into his palm, smearing the precious oils equally on his fingers and their bodies.]
You are my greatest treasure. I want to show you the extent of my love.
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[Waver's smile teases as his legs eagerly spread more at the first touch of Iskandar's fingers against the delicate skin of his inner thighs. His hips tilt at further contact, seeking what's coming next.
Between that and the attention to his neck, his voice breaks into sounds of sheer need and heat. Yes, yes, yes. Sweat trickles down his body as he gazes at his king, his love, in complete enraptured adoration and hanging on his every word.]
And I want to show you mine.
[It's probably not helped that Waver chooses to continue to worship the areas of Iskandar's body he can reach with his lips and hands as he rummages through the nightstand for the oil. His scars with his fingertips, hands caressing over his back and one moving across his chest, stopping only to tease around a nipple before stroking the raised bud.
The mingled scents of the oil break in the air, and Waver gasps but doesn't stop his attentions as Iskandar begins to smear it on both of them. Instead his heart races even faster, wanting, needing.]
Every single inch of my devotion to you.
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[Iskandar's voice is deeper than ever, strained and heavy with hunger he doesn't even try to hold back. Waver's hands all over his body, those beautiful, slender hands, turn his blood to liquid fire. Every touch, every caress sending jolts of pleasure down his spine.
He tenses when Waver's fingers find his nipple. A low growl escapes his lips descending into a moan.]
Θεούς... Waver...
[Iskandar tears away for a moment to admire his love. He's so caught by the beauty of the man in his arms that he has to remind himself to breathe. Waver's gorgeous black hair spread around his head like a halo, his pale cheeks flushed, eyes half-closed, lips parted. Iskandar leans down to kiss him. His hands keep tracing circles on the delicate skin of Waver's inner thighs.
Only when they finally part for air he whispers to his ear.]
Then surrender to me, beloved.
[He slips one slick finger inside him, carefully, patiently working his way up and down in a steady rhythm. He finds that special place inside Waver that hardens under his touch growing firmer with each stroke. Only then he adds another finger. The pace is excruciatingly slow but Iskandar would never want to hurt Waver no matter his need, no matter how much his hunger howls, no matter how frustrating it is to refrain from claiming him right here and now. All he wants for Waver to feel is pleasure. To spare him even the hint of discomfort.]
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He sees him. They see each other fully. Are allowed to. Waver melts into the kiss, making pleased noises as Iskandar strokes his thighs.]
Take me.
[An outright moan as Iskandar works him open and he feels himself being filled. Waver continues to run his hands all over Iskandar's body as he's fingered. Pleasure jolts through him like lightning every time his prostrate is stroked, as another finger joins the first, and it just stokes the fire inside him and causes every fiber of him to howl for Iskandar in increasingly desperate desire. He arches.
Another moan, desperate, needing. So necessarily slow but such sweet torture as well.]
I'm yours, love, always and only. Take me.
[Gasp. Pleasure blinding.]
Iskandar!
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How can I resist such a plea?
[He takes away his fingers but he doesn't leave Waver empty for long. He can only hope he prepared him enough to make his entry as painless as it can be. His hips rolling slowly as he thrusts deeper with each move. He's panting, himself almost out of breath.]
I want you, I love you. My beautiful Master, my love, my light. Waver. You're mine and I am yours.
[It's a sacred moment. Both of them so close to the edge. Losing the sense where one person ends and the other begins. As their bodies are becoming one so are their spirits. And always will be. Not only in the heat of passion. Forever. Nothing can ever pull them apart.]
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[It's not the first time. Far from. That makes everything easier. Waver's pulling at Iskandar to urge him forward, head tipped back in a soundless gasp as he's entered. He feels Iskandar move deeper within him with each rhythmic thrust, until he's fully sheathed inside. It feels so good - full inside, with Iskandar's weight on top of him - safe and protected and loved and desired. Like the boundaries between them have fallen all away.
A sacred moment.
Waver buries his face in Iskandar's neck to press kisses to the skin there as he adjusts to that fullness. Tears prick at the corner of his eyes as Iskandar says he loves him, wants him. That never fails to move him. Waver can feel it in every word and action of Iskandar's, and it always feels overwhelming at times that such a thing is true. Never a thing to be taken for granted and more than worth everything he's suffered through.
The only good enough response is to pull Iskandar even closer and pour everything he's feeling into a kiss.]
καρδιά μου...
[His own arousal demands more soon enough, and he begins to rock his own hips, encouraging Iskandar to move and set the pace. Beneath them, the wood groans ominously and there's another audible crack that Waver ignores outright.]
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Waver...aaah
[Then all is over and Iskandar is shaking. Only Servant's stamina keeps him from collapsing and burying Waver under his weight. The cold starts to set in. As if he poured all of his heat into this gorgeous figure beneath him...and he regrets none of it. Around them, there are stone walls and Iskandar didn't even bother to reach for a blanket. But he ignores it too, all his attention is on his beautiful lover. Black hair spread out around his head like a halo cut out from the night sky, lips slightly parted, eyes half-closed, cheeks flushed, chest rising and falling with breath still quickened from the moment before.]
You are a miracle, my love. I can never have enough of you.
[Iskandar leans down to claim those lips in a deep and possessive kiss. Only then does he finally pull away. He rolls on his back propping his head with one hand so he won't lose sight of Waver's face. This was pure ecstasy but he already yearns for more. His hunger can't possibly be satisfied with just one round.
And yet this is as much as the bed frame can handle. With a loud crack, it breaks sending them both down. Only the thickness of the mattress saves them from landing on the floor among the debris with wood splinters in their backs.
Iskandar groans. Not again...]
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Iskandar!
[Release hits and everything goes white in ecstasy.
The comedown has him still shaking with the aftershocks of pleasure as the afterglow sets in and his head hits the pillow with a satisfied thud. For a moment he is quiet, staring up with eyes heavy lidded and lips slightly parted with quickened breath at the vision above him. Both of them are sweaty and flushed from exertion, and Waver reaches up to brush a lock of hair out of Iskandar's eyes before his fingers turn to caressing the side of his face.
Yes, a miracle.]
Nor I you, love. Never, ever enough.
[Waver's arms wrap around Iskandar as his lips are claimed, and he groans into that kiss, returning it with equal passion. One round is not enough. Absolutely not enough. Iskandar rolls onto his back and Waver moves with him so they remain cuddled up as they continue to come down from the high.
Then he hears it.
-CRACK-
Uh oh. Waver has only time for a yelp of sudden shock as they and the mattress plummet to the floor below as the wooden frame breaks beneath them. He bounces against the mattress, ending up in a tangle of blankets and limbs and lies for a moment frozen, stunned and blinking.
Then he facepalms.]
Christ. We've slain another one.
[He's beginning to think there's not a bed built that can withstand them.]
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And that is our third? Fourth? I lost count. [He reaches across the jumbled mess that once was his bed to caress Waver's cheek.] Fifth? We're hopeless.
[He weaves his fingers through Waver's hair.]
I think the local invention of futon is exactly what we need. I would have proposed a steel bedframe but I'd rather not end with a metal rod through my kidney on the not so improbable occasion we managed to break that one too. The wooden ones disintegrate into less deadly debris.
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Completely hopeless. Bane of all furniture. [He leans into that touch, scooting closer as Iskandar continues to twine his fingers through his hair.] It's six, counting that love hotel.
[Still chuckling.] Please. Neither of us want to be hauled to the ER because we were in search of a bed that can withstand a couple of Heroic Spirits. What a story that would be. [He wonders if Archer and Caster had this problem.] Futon it is.