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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.]
cw: NSFW down to icon
[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.]
cw: NSFW
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!
cw: NSFW
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.]
cw: NSFW
[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.]
cw: NSFW
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...]
cw: NSFW
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.]
no subject
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.
no subject
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.