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yuri-is-online · 6 months ago

Note

I really love Sebek and Epel and Deuce

Sebek's Yutu would be a tad hilarious but also kinda sad because his dad MAY OR MAY NOT BE ALIVE because man

Malleus :(

Epel's Yutu tho......

I saw a fic where Epel can use a gun (mentioned in passing) so I'm imagining that while Epel's Yutu is a great farmer just like his dad

He's also got a rifle :)

You have given me a vision... the one thing Epel! Yutu wants... is to be a cowboy. Can you picture a baby who looks a lot like Epel with a little cowboy hat and boots, he'd be so cute. Also, I was having brain rot and decided to introduce one of the friends lovely @archetypal-archivist helped create for Yutu! Please check out their Azul! Yutu posting it's very good and I love it sososo much. Unfortunately this post does not feature Epel riding on a horse, I'll have to fix that sometime. And get back to Sebek later.

notes: they/them used for Yuu, context on the fyuuture kid au can be found here and here. For more fyuutre kid au, please check out the series section of my masterlist.

Yutu's earliest memory is of apples.

His parent had him in a sling as they worked, picking and packing the fruit as they softly hummed a lullaby to soothe his grumpy mood. He never was able to get over how big an orchard could be, even when he was old enough to walk under the trees and play with the other workers children something about that sea of greenery just felt magical. Like if he really focused the outside world would cease to be and he could wake up in a land of nothing but him, Yuu, and the acceptance you can only ever find in nature.

But that's not how things ever went. When he opened his eyes Yuu would pack him up and they would move to follow the harvest until the winters shut things down and it was back to that god awful place Yuu had been born in. He was glad to move away when Yuu found them a permanent place to stay when he turned 10, gladder still for it to be a farm even if it didn't have the orchards he loved so much. The old couple that hired Yuu on were impressed with how deeply the single parent cared for their son, and how eager the son was to to help his parent. It was the perfect set up for an ideal, if difficult, childhood that would nurture Yutu in to a strong young man.

But this isn't the happy family future, it's the bad one. And things were always going to go wrong sooner rather than later.

Mixing things up from the other posts, Yuu feels particularly drawn to farms and farm work when thinking about Yutu's father and ends up crisscrossing their country as a migrant farm worker until they're offered a full time position as a farm hand they happily accept in the hopes of stabilizing Yutu's education. Yutu genuinely loved his childhood and grew up having a deep respect for manual labor and agriculture. He assumes Yuu must have met his father while traveling and had a brief relationship that produced him, but accepts that whatever accident caused Yuu's memory loss will keep him from ever really knowing if that was the case. Yuu impresses on him that his dad was a hard worker with a bit of a temper who never backed down from a challenge. They tease him that he gets his "cute" side from his Pappa, which Yutu likes about as much as Epel probably would.

He's doing his time in the short king mines, Yutu won't hit his growth spurt until around 17 and how tall he gets is from that is up to you, but if he stays short just know he is not happy about it at all. Unless someone brings up the fact he could probably have a career as a professional jockey and then he will maybe think about it as being a blessing. Maybe. Yutu learned to ride pretty early on in life and he loves doing it, but he doesn't really want to race horses. He'd much rather be a cowboy with his own little farm and a family of his own with a big orchard to tend to. He's got big dreams of one day being able to introduce his partner to Yuu and give them a nice place to retire to.

Plays outside by himself a lot. There are some kids at school he befriends, but a lot of their parents are wary about letting their kids hang out with him at his house. Yuu is seen as a bit weird, even if the old couple they work for is well liked most people in town know their kids who really dislike Yuu and Yutu for reasons that escape Yutu but his parent seems to understand. "They think they're protecting their parents." As Yutu grows he thinks it has to be more about money, he and Yuu love working the farm but their kids all have different jobs they got college degrees for so they probably want to sell the land when their parents die. He's right about that last bit of course, and willing to let Yuu give them some charity but he doesn't think they care about their parents near as much as he cares about his. Otherwise they'd at least be nice to someone their parents considered part of the family and not ship their mom off to a nursing home before their dad was even in the ground. Or evict the outcasts they considered part of the family too.

You have no idea what to do as you pack up your few belongings, Yutu can tell that you are stressed and it makes him mad. He tries to focus on helping, taping things up and dragging them out to the beat up car as you listlessly stare at the kitchen sink. After he moves the second box he notices you're not packing anymore and goes to check what's wrong and his instincts begin screaming something's wrong. Your eyes are unfocused, staring down at a framed picture he remembers well.

"Do you ever think about how all of this is my fault?" You sound a world a way and Yutu guesses that you are, the photo of a younger you with a toddler him in a sling under the apple orchards stares back at you both questioning just where is it you plan to go from here. It can't be back on the open road, school is about to start and the entire point of staying here was to make things better for him. Yutu is about to ask you the same thing when he hears the wind pick up, and is that a carriage he hears? "If I hadn't forgotten you, then maybe I could have found a way back..."

"What in the goddamn-" Yutu is cut off by the glass being blown out and he dives on instinct to cover you as the world spins around him.

"I'm real sorry Epel, you don't have to forgive me but... even after all this time. I still love you... I still love you and how sad is that..."

Good news, Yutu doesn't have to sleep and a shitty motel tonight. Bad news, he's in the middle of some fancy private school shit and his parent is flat lining on their floor. He starts screaming bloody murder until Crewel comes and scoops him up and ushers him off to the hospital wing where they have a very tense conversation. Yes, he does belong here actually he was supposed to have been born in this world with it's magic, monsters, and annoying private school uniforms he finds himself shoved into and marched back out to that fuck ass mirror to hear what dormitory he belongs in. The fuck is a Pom-e-fee-or and why does that girl with the 2000s throwback hairstyle look like she wants to kill him for asking that?

That girl is the Vice Warden of his new house and she absolutely hates him on sight. Like, she's heard about Epel before, duh who hasn't? He performed in the VDC with the Vil Schoenheit and he had like a fun Magicam account where he promoted his family's apple farm. Didn't Yuu tell him anything about that? Ugh guess she'll have to do it and hey why is hE RUNNING AWAY DOES ELEGANCE MEAN NOTHING TO YOU?!?!?! WHERE IS YOUR POMEFIORE DIGNITY YUTU DON'T THINK SHE CAN'T CATCH YOU BECAUSE SHE'S GOT HEELS ON BITCH!!!

It's exactly where Epel's Pome Pride was when he first joined to dorm, down a drain someplace because Yutu thinks his dorm is the pits. Growing up like he did made him starkly aware of just how different people with money see people like him and instilled a deep hatred of people who make their personality their skincare routine. He thinks the way rich people spend their money is boring and hates that his dorm mates are spending their precious time in a literal apocalypse doing their make up and hair. His Vice Warden is irritated with him and asks what he does then when he can't control the circumstances around him and Yutu goes to snap back at her but finds he doesn't really have an answer.

"Have you even tried taking care of yourself before?" Peyton is looking over his hair in genuine disgust, it's different than the resting bitch face she usually has. Yutu has seen enough of both to be able to tell the difference now.

"I mean I don't not take care of it." Because Yuu had tried to get him to do things like a skincare routine before, and come to think of it they had phrased the reasoning much like Peyton is now. Take good care of yourself. His Vice Warden rolls her eyes and turns towards her vanity, the amount of homemade products and their labels immediately tells him they aren't all for her hair type.

"Yeah but you don't do it well. Look I'm not crazy about bougie stuff either but like, you just feel so much better when you put the effort into yourself and not what other people say about you." She hesitates before meeting his eyes in the mirror and adding. "Trust me, I'd know." And Yutu believes her.

It has got to be hard being a vocaloid stan in a dorm with a literal ballroom.

Yutu really does belong in Pomefiore. He's great with alchemy and magical plants, just like his dad Crewel is all to happy to tell him. They talk a bit about his dad and the situation in the Shaftlands, how no one has heard from Epel since the blot took over and it's insanely difficult to get anywhere near there since the Phantom Hunter makes your life a living hell if you try. Most people think he's dead, but Crewel isn't so sure. He thinks that the various communities across Mt. Moln could easily sustain themselves if they barricaded against the blot monsters, but they also don't have a lot of mages so actually defending themselves could be difficult. Then again this does mean that the stronger phantoms would be less interested, so who knows. In the climate of the day though it is probably best to brace for the worst.

The sports clubs still exist in a less intense manner than before to give people different ways to relax and things to do. Since Yutu loves horses he tried the equestrian club out before deciding it was way too "fussy" and settling in to the board game club since he never really had enough friends to actually play them with before. It's a lot of fun to compare all the ways these games are similar to ones he knows about from Yuu's world and yet completely different. It helps nurse his sadness over losing Yuu since they were the only one who ever played these sorts of games with him and he has fond memories of how they totally never let him win.

He takes a great deal of comfort in knowing his dad had similar struggles with his dorm placement and is overjoyed to learn about the family farm! He wishes he was there right now and drives Peyton absolutely bonkers telling her all about the tests he's run on the soil around campus, how he thinks blot might effect plant growth, and the ways he can think of to combat it. She's crying please just go talk to the Ignyhide kids they totally care about that stuff probably! His lectures end up being useful when they're finally unable to avoid going out on missions any longer as understanding the signs of heavy pollution makes the stronger phantoms easier to track.

It's a realization Epel has also had, secluded in his little village as he is. Harveston has heavily fortified it's position and bulked up it's population with the survivors of other surrounding communities. They have been gifted the ability to endure, but Epel doesn't know if their community will survive long term unless the phantoms are dealt with. The surviving members of his family from the Queendom told awful stories when they retreated here, if that's what's going on in the rest of the world he imagines S.T.Y.X. is probably involved so he tries to keep his eyes peeled for anything like their tech. He manages to find a busted drone in the snow one day and brings it home to work on it whenever he gets a spare moment. It helps him ignore his grief over losing Yuu, his child, and contact with all of his friends. When he's focused on not breaking the drone further, he can convince himself he's either worked through that already or that once he fixes it he will have everyone he lost back at home with him where they belong.

Unit 7954 cackles back to life with a stream of what sounds like a stream of curse words, but Idia has certainly never heard any of them before. He knows that joyful cackle though and he thinks he must have stayed up too long again because he as to be hallucinating. There is no way he's actually looking at Epel, but the whooping before he shyly calms himself down reassures him he is. The two frantically talk about the situation in the Shaftlands and the number of survivors before Idia smacks himself and remembers to mention Yutu's existence. Epel falls off his chair in surprise at the news and Idia is worried he's killed the man before he hears his sobbing. Breaking through the front lines of the Fairest Queen might be impossible, but a video call now that Epel has fixed the drone isn't and Ortho is nice enough to set one up.

"Sevens yer big." Yutu feels like he's 10 feet tall when he hears the drawl of his father's voice. "Bigger than I was at yer age I reckon." The man is certainly taller than him, with lavender waves he's tied neatly back to let him see better under his thick winter clothing. His smile is so warm and friendly Yutu wishes he could dive through the screen and be there with him right this instant. "'s ok if ya don't know where to start with the questions, I bet you got a bunch."

"Why'd you marry Yuu?" It's not what he expected to ask first. He wanted to talk about school, or ask something practical like tips about finding his unique magic or fighting monsters. But that was what he really wanted to know wasn't it? Why Yuu was so important, if he was important to this man and his different accent even after all these years. And the happy smile that relaxes his father screams that he is, it's as if he's shed years of stress and suffering just thinking about his parent.

"Be easier to list the reasons I didn't like them since there aren't any." Epel closes his eyes and thinks about that first moment he realized how much he liked you, tucked away studying in the library and bickering about how to do an assignment as he wondered why you were even there and if you thought he was cool at all. "Since Yuu was from another world a lot of us felt like they deserved a good home here, but that just meant I wanted to invite them over for the summer and stuff like that. Didn't mean I wanted to spend the rest of my life with them, that's what I thought at first anyway. But well, you know Yuu pretty well. They always somehow know where the good lies in even the worst of people. Or at least they knew where it was in me and made sure to believe in it right up until the last day I saw them." They both quiet at the thought of that, Yutu wondering if he should push further before Epel quietly adds. "I hope you know they'd be stupid proud of you for everything. Pomefiore isn't an easy dorm to be a part of but if you put in the work you'll really thrive there, and the both of us really believe you've got what it takes to do that yeah? If you'll let me speak on their behalf anyway."

"Of course you can." Yutu does his best not to cry, but Epel can tell it isn't going to work. "You- you miss them too after all." And isn't that the truth.

The plan to go back in time is decided on before the blockade around Harveston can be breached. Epel gives Yutu as much information as he can about the past and what to expect before he goes, making him promise to hug the younger him at least once in the hopes the memory will somehow flow across time and he'll get a taste of what it's like to hold his son before he sends him off with a "good luck" and "kick their ass!" Even though neither of them fully know who is responsible just yet.

Epel! Yutu has an easier time adjusting to the past than a lot of the other Yutu's thanks to Epel's descriptions of people like- well mostly just his description of Rook. He still comes off as weird but in an endearing way as opposed to an "I need to run for my existence literally" type of way. Unfortunately his dad might have buried the memory of just how in his feelings and jealous he got about Yuu pre relationship. He's rolling his eyes and ignoring everything Yutu says because he wants to monopolize your attention and Yutu is honestly kind of living for it. He thinks it's super cool that his dad is willing to fight for Yuu's affections even though he could be considered to have no chance. He's short, more "cute" than he is "hot," and poor by a lot of people's standards. Sure, Yutu loves the farm life and Yuu must have to raise him in it but if that isn't how you grew up he's super surprised you chose Epel. Surprised and grateful because Yutu really loves his dad.

That love gets through to Epel somewhat, he's super confused as to why the new guy thinks he's so cool AND why he wants to complain about it. Isn't that what he wants? To be seen as cool, strong, and reliable? Well sure but he wants you to see him that way more than anything, it'd make him so happy if he had your approval. He's happy to have your friendship but- well it would just be nice to have you around forever. He's going to miss you when you go back to your world.

Yutu considers re joining the board games club to get close to Idia, but sees Azul and moonwalks his way out of there in a move that definitely doesn't put him on either of their radars and announces to Yuu that he will be starting a book club instead. He does this so he has a reasonable excuse to spend a bunch of time in the library and request access to various archives but Sebek joins since it meets once a week on Saturdays and railroads it into being like. An actual book club. They have other members too and Yutu hates it because he isn't super fond of wasting his time reading things unrelated to his mission but some of the stuff Sebek recommends is good he guesses.

Yutu thinks he's doing a good job of flying under the radar of suspicion, and to be fair Epel and Yuu are a bit too caught up in each other to notice the stranger things about Yutu but Sebek is not and convinces them to surveil where he goes after the book club meetings. Grim is on board just because he's tired of watching Epel and Yuu make heart eyes at each other and he thinks he can get tuna out of it so they make a day of it. It turns out Yutu goes to Craneport every weekend without fail to meet up with... someone. He goes to an apartment building and it would be a bit too obvious if they followed him in there without more evidence (Yuu has to be the one to point this out because you know Sebek and Epel are ready to charge.) So they keep this up for a couple of weeks until one day Yutu cancels the book club meeting and leaves campus early. This time he heads towards the mines Yuu explored with Ace and Deuce for the mage stone that second night they were at NRC. There are several people there, and Yutu does something he's never done, not even around Yuu who he has described as a friend. He lets down his hood.

The shock of lavender that tumbles out from the hood has all three of you tripping over yourselves to cover your mouths. His facial expressions, mannerisms, and even the way he goes the pull his hair screams that he has to be related to Epel. He's admitted to being from your world, and the way he speaks, the shape and color of his eyes and the way he laughs have to come from you. Sebek isn't able to keep it in any more as he starts crying, then loudly denying he's crying, congratulating you on your marriage since you are a friend of the young master before yelling at Yutu for acting in a manner that could have brought dishonor to his parents.

All of this scares the phantom Yutu's friends were hunting out of hiding and forces everyone to fight it. Yutu is extremely flustered from Sebek's scolding but he is nowhere near as embarrassed as Epel who immediately starts taking it out on the phantom and cussing up a storm. It's one of the quicker fights Yutu has had with a blot monster, and he isn't really complaining when Epel drags him and Yuu into the Dwarf's Cottage for a chat.

"So I'm yer Pa, Yuu's m' spouse and ya didn't think to spit that out 'fer you went fighting shit fucks BECAUSE?" Epel is steaming mad, he's almost as red as Riddle which Yutu would be impressed by if he wasn't so embarrassed.

"Um. Cause I didn't think you would-"

"YER GODSDAMNED RIGHT I WOULDN'TA BELIEVED YA! At first anyway." Normal, or would it be fake? Neither Yutu supposes, calm Epel is back as he crosses his arms and really looks at him. "You look like me, and you sound like them. I bet there's things you can tell me about myself you'd have no way of knowing otherwise so why bother hiding yourself? Don't you want my help?"

"Our help." You speak up immediately and Epel nods, affirming what you said slightly embarrassed he let his insecurities forget that you were here too for a moment. Yutu doesn't answer immediately, instead he looks very firmly at the ground as if he would rather be anywhere else than admit what he's about to.

"... not if it means you both die. I- I don't think I can watch that happen again." And oh seven does that change the tone of the conversation, because what does he mean by again?

Yutu refuses to answer until he gets to hug Epel. He expects it to be awkward, but it isn't at all. His dad squeezes him so tightly Yutu is sure his future self has got to feel it as he slowly lays out his story about the bad future and how he thinks it got to be there. About growing up in Yuu's world and the pain of watching you die. Epel is mad as hell to hear about it and swears it won't happen and is halfway out the door before he even has time to process it. Everyone brings Sebek up to speed, who insists on informing the young master immediately; something everyone agrees is a good course of action given how Briar Valley was the first place they know of being effected.

Malleus is delighted that everyone agreed to invite him on their secret mission, but also deeply disturbed by what hears. As Briar Valley's King, it is his responsibility to make sure nothing like Yutu is describing happens for no other reason than it would harm his subjects, but he can't help but be personally insulted that whoever did this would rob his human friend of their happiness too. The only re-payment he requests is that when (not if) he saves the future that Epel and Yuu invite him to the wedding, baby shower, christening, and any other important milestone they have in their lives. It's an easy enough thing to agree to Epel thinks. He has the approval of Ace and Deuce already, so to have Malleus announce he accepts him as your man too? That's all of the family you've collected in this world so... it's not too much trouble to ask you to join his, right? He won't be tricked this time, promise. You will walk this life hand in hand until the eternal sleep takes you both, and that won't happen until Yutu is practically an old man himself. And you of all people should know what Epel can do when he sets his mind to it; he got you to fall in love with him after all, didn't he?

#<3 asks #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #epel felmier x reader #future kid au #peyton to me is the mean older sister from an early 2000s disney channel show/movie #like #she's mean but she does ok maybe sort of care :/#she'll loan you her good lip gloss for a date and then help you hide the body if your bf turns out to be shit #and other just girly things like that you know?#ty so much to archivist for coming up with her and letting me use her #i love all their ocs to pieces

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lavellane · 1 year ago

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my kingdom for a kiss upon her shoulder.

Impatient as he is, he greets his uncle first. He’s the king, after all, and his advisors deserve at least the pretense of an attentive ruler.

Pleasantries are exchanged between them while his squire helps him out of his gaudy golden excuse for armor. Not unexpectedly, the elephant in the room goes undiscussed, as do the half dozen marriage proposals he's certain have piled up during his absence. After six years, Eamon knows better than to press him on that issue. Likely he'll try his luck in the morning, but tonight the wells of Alistair’s patience have been run thoroughly dry. It must read plainly on his face, given how bad he is at cards.

As the arl's debrief draws to a close, Alistair's eyes, for the tenth time in half as many minutes, dart towards the exit. Eamon sighs.

“Well, Your Grace,” he says, tactfully clearing his throat. “The hour is late indeed. I imagine you're weary from your travels?”

Alistair nods. “Oh, very weary. The weariest.”

It's not entirely a lie, but his uncle frowns nonetheless. “Then I won't keep you. Good night, Alistair.”

“You as well, Uncle.”

“I will see you in the morning for your small council meeting. Do try not to be . . . waylaid.”

Well. Hint received. Awkward. He lets out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding when he finally presses the door closed behind him.

Next up: a bath. It's sorely needed, after five weeks back and forth across the Waking Sea. His arrivals home are typically received without much ceremony, per his request, and so the palace is pleasantly quiet. A few saluting guards here, a scurrying servant or two there. It's for their benefit that he keeps his footfalls slow and measured, instead of breaking into the wild sprint down the hallway that he's aching for.

One of those servants must have drawn his bath for him already, he guesses, stepping into his chambers to find it warm and awaiting. He wonders if Teagan roused them from their beds for this, or if they've simply clued into his routine after so many years of it.

He forces himself to bathe slowly. For his own sake, but mostly for hers. The heat soaks into his bones, the grime and dust from the road melting off of him as if little more than a bad memory. He tries to enjoy it, despite his restlessness. And the excitement, Maker, like he's still twenty years old and the anticipation alone might just undo him. Or do him in.

He only hurries as he dries off, reaching for the fresh (and mercifully plain) clothes laid diligently aside for him. A part of him considers forgoing clothes entirely – palace denizens be damned. He wills himself to dress anyway, reluctantly. Quickly. It hasn't been that long since he last saw her, anyway, and they've gone far longer stretches before than this. Nonetheless, between Kirkwall's tyrannical templars and the lingering Qunari threat, he feels as if he hasn't held her in an age.

Clean and fully dressed, he frowns at his reflection. Older, harder, more weary. But happy, still, despite it all. Because of her. Her, waiting for him, just a few rooms away.

Naked, ideally.

He does away with all pretense and hightails down the hall, paying no mind to his kingsguard and their poorly suppressed grins. Smile away, Alistair thinks. I'll be smiling too, in a minute.

Her door is up ahead. And then before him. The handle is inches away from his outstretched hand. He hesitates.

How’s his breath? His hair? He should have shaved, should have put in a little more effort. Can she hear his creepy breathing behind the door? He fixes his clothes. Squares his shoulders. Knocks.

“Elles?”

A pause. Then, “Alistair?”

His heart tightens painfully in his chest. How he's missed that voice. If Ferelden could speak, it would do so through Elspeth Cousland. The strength of the Frostbacks in that voice of hers. The grim beauty of the Kocari Wilds. Rough like the Highever seas.

He can tell she’s been brooding before he’s so much as closed the door behind him. Not that he’s surprised — Maker, does the woman know how to brood. She shoots up quickly to her feet, straight and rigid like a soldier standing at attention. Not, mind you, like a Warden-Commander; at this moment Elspeth more closely resembles a clammy-handed recruit, next in line for her Joining. She’s nervous, that much is obvious, with her hands white knuckled and clasped together with uncertainty. From past experience, he’d wager anything she’s spent the last several days convincing herself he’s somehow fallen out of love with her in the time they’ve been apart.

And they say he’s the idiot.

Life’s too short to waste on “hello”’s, or “I’ve missed you”’s, or "I brought you a souvenir, but silly me, I accidentally dropped it overboard on the voyage back”. They’ve got less time together than most, after all. Crossing the distance between them is a blur; one moment he's at the door, the next he's hoisting her legs up around his waist, arms enveloping every part of her he can get his hands on, lips working relentlessly against her opened mouth. Whatever insecurities she'd tried to voice in the time it took him to wrap her up in his arms, he doesn't care to hear. He'd much rather focus on ridding her of those doubts entirely.

She gets the message — they've always been in sync like that. Her lips catch up with his, matching the hunger and resolve of his kiss. Her hands, calloused and smelling perpetually of iron, snake around his shoulders. The rest of her smells like roses; she must have come just recently from the garden he’d had built for her, the one place he specifically forbid her from moping in. He takes a moment to refamiliarize himself with her scent, lost in the feeling of her fingers tangled up in his hair, pulling him closer, ever closer, close enough to lose track of whose body belongs to who. And still it's not enough.

He needs her. Badly. She can probably feel as much, too. He carries her to the bed, laying her down amidst the pillows and furs. He finds within himself just enough self restraint to stand back for a long, brazen ogle. Maker, everything about her turns him on. Her freckles, her fingers, her breasts. Her long ashen hair in that ever-familiar braid. Storm gray eyes, pale pink lips. Her nose, one of his many favorite parts of her, set crooked after one too many fists to the face.

That perfect, powerful body of hers, hidden away under just a few thin, tearable layers of clothing . . .

She's way ahead of him, of course, because at this point they've got reunion sex down to an art. She casts off her Warden-blue tunic with only a button or two lost in the process, then grabs him by the front of his own shirt (red, naturally, with a tiny embroidered ‘I love you’ she'd stitched so sneakily behind the hem of his collar) and pulls him down on top of her once it's properly discarded. Their pants and various stubborn affects follow suit, until they’re both left blissfully bare and pawing feverishly at one another, limbs tangled and lips locked.

His fingers venture down the valley of her breasts, past her stomach to settle in between her legs. He smiles at what he finds, reassured by the proof that he’s not the only one so blatantly aroused. Her thighs part wider for him, hips lifting from the sheets to sooner meet his digits. She moans, perhaps less so from pleasure than the sheer relief of being touched — loved — for the first time in over a month. And he's right there with her. He sighs (or whines, if he's being honest) into the crook of her neck when her own hands find what they've been looking for, working him all too quickly into a frenzy.

She stops just as suddenly as she'd started, pushing at his chest until he relents and rolls over. She straddles his lap, grinding once, hard and agonizingly slow, for good measure. He moves to drape an arm over his face in some futile attempt to cool his burning cheeks, but she cruelly intercedes, pinning his wrists by either side of his head. He struggles playfully for a bit, laughing breathlessly. His hips buck autonomously at the sight of those strong, muscular arms holding him firmly in place.

They used to spar together, innocently, when they first met. How time flies.

He needs so, so desperately to fuck her. He has all night — all week, all year, all of the rest of their lives— to savor her body the way it's meant to be savored. To make sweet, tender, Chantry sanctioned love to her. But what he needs right now — what they both need, he recognises — is something desperate and ragged and mindless to the point of being no better than animals. The type of fucking that comes from a shared loneliness he's not certain anybody else has ever experienced before.

He's glad she doesn't give him too much time to dwell on that. Her hips rise just enough for the right angle, before guiding him slowly inside. They both sigh. Elspeth frees his trapped hands to splay her own out against his chest, steadying herself. Her nails dig into his skin as she sinks down onto him, inch by inch, although she's bitten them too short to do any real damage. Alistair fights to keep himself still inside her, waiting for her body to adjust, to give him the go ahead. An uphill battle, really. When he's fully sheathed inside of her she settles, save for the frantic contraction of her muscles around him, driving him to the brink of insanity.

“I dreamt about this every night I was gone,” he manages. “Maker, I love you, Elles. I love you so much.”

Her eyes go glassy and her bottom lip quivers. It's that old, familiar grief, the one he's never been able to fully free her from after those long, bleak months in the Deep Roads. But as he moves his hips carefully against hers and feels Elspeth moving back, he's confident he can coax it down again, at least for as little as tonight.

“I love you,” she eventually whispers back, and then begins to ride him in earnest.

Ten minutes blurs into one long wave of curling, cresting euphoria. Alistair groans brokenly. He feels absolutely deranged, delirious, gazing up at her while she takes him so completely. Sweat beads at her forehead, and a deep flush creeps from her chest up to her cheeks. His own face must be beet-red, too.

He's not going to last long, not with the angle she’s hitting and sounds coming out of her mouth. Though, taking those sounds into consideration, he suspects that she won't last much longer, either. They're both too keyed up to pace themselves and too jittery to try, so better to play it out in a wild crescendo. He grabs at her hips, lifting her up and back down onto him, coaxing out one hoarse plea after another. One hand releases its grip to run unfettered across her breasts, and she groans again, falling forwards onto his chest and wrapping herself around him as if she might never get a chance to again.

Once, a hundred lifetimes ago, his friend Zevran gave him some unsolicited advice about arching. He really hadn’t appreciated it at the time, but he does now, right in this moment, with the friction of this exact position to aid him in such an endeavor. She’s done in half a minute if he can keep her held firmly above him. He’s done, too. He doubles his efforts, recapturing her swollen lips and soon reaching with his tongue to greet the muffled cry when her pleasure finally peaks. Normally he would let her ride it out, but he’s rapidly approaching his own climax and his brain can focus on nothing but her gray, glazed over eyes, her hair in the candlelight, the frantic rise and fall of her chest as she writhes and bucks and bounces against him. Her muscles pulse and he feels himself twitching inside of her in response.

He’s so close, at the precipice, suspended in mid air, floating . . . And then she tightens around him once more and he finishes inside of her with one long, obscene moan that vibrates through the room and every part of his utterly spent body.

They’re going to get so many looks from the guards come morning.

His every muscle sings with bliss. Their bodies grow slack and boneless together and their movements slow to lazy, drawn out rolls of the hips. He holds her, one hand rubbing her naked back and the other cradling her head as they find their breaths again, together, in the most comfortable of silences. He counts her exhales, and in the afterglow of their efforts he finds himself blinking back tears. Returning to Ferelden, to Denerim, to the palace itself . . . none of it had felt like coming home until this very moment, enveloped in one another, reacquainted at last with the sound of each other’s breathlessness.

He hates it when she rolls up and off of him, but he’s a grown up, apparently, so instead of whining about it he begrudgingly rises from the bed long enough to grab the nearest clean cloth. Then he’s right back in bed with her, his hand returning between her legs to wipe her down, followed by a cursory clean up of himself. She lets out her now thoroughly dishevelled braid while she watches him, not smiling as he’d hoped, but warm and tender nonetheless. Her fingers trace slow and deliberately along the curve of his bicep, frowning at the jagged scar she knows still gives him trouble in the colder months. He makes a mental note to get at least a half dozen laughs out of her before the night is through, just to keep that damned frown of hers at bay.

He offers her a worldless arm when he’s done tidying them both up, and he’s rewarded with a smile, sweet and sheepish, as she moves to snuggle into it. He pulls her close to pepper the top of her head with kisses, humming contentedly in the quiet.

“Marry me,” he says eventually.

Elspeth tenses, and then sighs. “You’re never going to give this up, are you?”

“Ha! Of course I will. The second you say ‘Yes! Yes! Oh, Alistair! One thousand times yes!’”

“I don’t sound like that. Also, do I have to say it a thousand times, or just the once?”

“Well . . . a couple times couldn’t hurt, right?”

And there it is: her first, exasperated chuckle of the night. Winning that laughter means more to him than every battle he’s ever come out of victorious.

“You know I can’t, Ali.” Her laughter fades back into her usual grimness as she runs her palm across his chest, charting routes in the space between his freckles. She places a kiss above his heart, likely in the hopes of avoiding his eye. “We’ve broken too many rules as it is, and I won’t be the cause for yet more unrest in Thedas. I bear responsibility for enough of that already. Besides, I can’t just abandon my men. The Wardens need me.”

“I need you.” He scoffs as an afterthought. “And the Gray Wardens have Nathaniel, as much as it just kills me to credit that man with anything. But hey! Who said anything about giving them up? A king can be a general. I’m living proof he can be a court jester, too. Why can’t a queen be Warden-Commander?”

She ignores his quip, despite it being a really good one. “Because I don’t know how to be a queen.” She shakes her head hopelessly. “I barely know how to be a person most days. Maybe . . . maybe I could have done it, once, but now, after everything —”

Better to stop this now before it turns into another one of her signature doom spirals. “Every Arl and Bann in the Coastlands calls you queen already, did you know that?” He grins, having anticipated the eyeroll. Of course she knows that, given how much her fellow Gray Wardens love to gossip. And tease. “The nobles have long been made aware that I won't accept anybody else by my side. And, Maker, it’s not like they would accept anybody else! ‘None but the Cousland Queen’ — that’s what they say about you. I know that because half of the bannorn have told me. To my face.”

Some small, dignified part of her — the part that still relishes being a highborn noble — stirs. Her eyes glint with cautious intrigue. “Bann Ceorlic?” she asks.

Alistair clears his throat. “Well, not him.”

“Hmph.”

“Marry me,” he says again. “Don’t you want to?”

“You know I want to,” she says, “but —”

“— Any excuse you give me will just go in one ear and out the other. Isn’t that just so classically me? Hey, here’s a crazy idea. Let’s get maaaa-rried!”

“You’re just getting funnier and funnier in your old age, aren’t you?”

“And you’re getting grumpier.”

He takes her face in both hands before she can deny it, kissing her slow and soft and with all of the comfort he knows she secretly needs right now, and likely always will. Now that he’s home - truly home - he can give her as much of that as she can stand, and then some. Tomorrow’s small council meeting be damned. “Marry me, Elles.”

She blinks up at him, searching his eyes for any sign he might one day get tired of waiting. She can find a lot in his eyes (he is really, really terrible at cards) but she’ll never find that.

“Can I at least ask you how your trip went, first?” she asks finally, softened by the crack of a tiny, rueful smile.

“Ugh.” How could he forget? “Right. That little thing. It -”

Alistair blinks, Kirkwall forgotten again just as soon as he’d remembered it. “That’s . . . not a ‘no’, by the way,” he says, dumbfounded.

Elspeth settles in closer against him, her leg wrapped around his, her ear pressed in snug at his shoulder. He knows she’s listening for his heartbeat, the thump-thump-thump she’d do anything - everything - for. He knows she put him on the throne to keep that heartbeat going for a few years more, and he knows that’s why it’s so hard for her to give up the endless fight for it now.

He knows. It doesn’t mean he thinks she’s right.

She looks up at him only after she’s satisfied that his heart isn’t about to cease functioning in his chest. Her hand reaches out to smooth down the errant hairs around his ears, and she opens her mouth several times to reply before pursuing them together in frustration. Then - finally, bashfully - she nods.

“No,” she admits softly. “I mean, it’s not. It’s . . . it’s not a no.”

‘It’s not a no’. Well, he’s certainly done more with less.

#dragon age origins #dao #alistair theirin #alistair x warden #oc: elspeth #mine: writing #we are so fucking back babey #considering i havent posted my writing in like. over an entire year at best. i did somewhat pop off with this one <3 #elle is so miserable all the time except when alistair pranks her into experiencing joy and i hope that shines through if nothing else <3 #ALSO TY MAIA FOR THE PEP TALK BEFORE POSTING THIS I LOVE U .

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