I do not think those words mean what you think they mean
Short porn. Yeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh. Sure it's going to be a short pornish interlude in the Damascus fic and I'll be done in a few days. Mmmmhmmm.
15,000 words later and still no porn. Honestly, considering there's about six people in the fandom who have any interest in Will, I'm not sure why I keep writing. Except that I need to finish this story and see how they end up together. So, you guys are stuck with it, I guess.
Have some words.
Title: weep now for the memories
Fandom: Sanctuary
Pairing: Will/Magnus
Words: 15229 so far
When he’s settled in and the Ao Ao comes around, Will does take another shot at it, and another, and another, and another. The Paraguayan team thinks he’s batshit for it, and maybe he is, maybe it’s just a point of pride, but he can’t stop thinking about Jack the Pleskie or maybe Kali. All ugly on the outside, all scared and hurt on the inside, not really wanting to hurt anyone but needing someone else to make the link for them. Needing someone else to try.
He ignores the sense of deja vu, the barely there awareness that his stubbornness might just be rooted in figure eights of flame blue and someone he desperately needed to trust him and keeps on talking to the creature. Somewhere around the seventh day (Will has no idea, he can’t remember if he’s slept, when he ate, who he’s spoken to; he’s more obsessed with Ao Ao than he was with Adam, he thinks) the Ao Ao starts talking. It, he, Will reminds himself, speaks perfect English, barely accented with Guarani, which trust him, is weird coming out of a boar’s head.
The Ao Ao, Maato, he names himself, tells Will of its life before as a protector of the mountains and hills, a peaceful member of a peaceful tribe, all of them content to live apart from humans as long as humans abide by the agreements. The old ways. Now, humans come and take plants and soil and samples (Zviya’s biologicals, Will’s beginning to understand) and the Ao Ao must stop them.
“Why,” Will asks, “Don’t you just explain?” Zviya’s ancestors lived by rules, locations measured in paces, arcs built to exacting specifications, rules of kashrut. She, at least, would be willing to abide by the old ways (or with Will’s help make new ones).
“I cannot.” Maato’s head hangs so low, Will’s loathe to respond, “But you just did,” though it’s the only sensible thing to say. He reminds himself that signs of grief or distress in humans may not be matched with similar emotions in Ao Ao. That Abnormals must not be supposed to think like humans, even the ones who speak like humans. Yet his voice still sounds tentative when he finally says it anyway.
“I explained to you, Will. But I cannot explain to her.”
Will frowns and rakes a hand through his hair. “I don’t understand. Is it because she’s a woman?”
Maato grunts, a very porcine sound, and then laughs a rough, “No. It’s because she’s a lawbreaker.”
Alllllll right, then, this is going to be a problem. Will may need to call in an anthropologist, or consult with one. For now, he gets the information he can. “And it’s your job to punish her, so you can’t speak to her?”
“No, Will. I literally cannot. If I catch her scent, I must chase her until I catch her and kill her or mate her and take an Ao Ao of her bearing back to my tribe. There is,” Maato says and Will thinks he sounds sad about it. “No other way.”
Oh hell no. And he thought Zviya being a lawbreaker was a problem. “You understand I can’t let you do either of those things?” Technically he could, if Zviya wanted to consent to the mating, but he’s extremely reluctant to ask. So reluctant his ‘can’t’ is almost as literal as Maato’s.
“I do. But what can I do? You will have to keep me in this cell forever to keep me from pursuing her.”
That’s when Will realizes it’s not tradition that’s at the root of things but biology. Probably. Okay, yeah, he’s a little slow on the uptake. Magnus probably would’ve caught it at “scent” and maybe so would Zviya, but if Zviya were sitting where he is, she’d be dead or pinned under a boar-man with testicles the size of Will’s head.
15,000 words later and still no porn. Honestly, considering there's about six people in the fandom who have any interest in Will, I'm not sure why I keep writing. Except that I need to finish this story and see how they end up together. So, you guys are stuck with it, I guess.
Have some words.
Title: weep now for the memories
Fandom: Sanctuary
Pairing: Will/Magnus
Words: 15229 so far
When he’s settled in and the Ao Ao comes around, Will does take another shot at it, and another, and another, and another. The Paraguayan team thinks he’s batshit for it, and maybe he is, maybe it’s just a point of pride, but he can’t stop thinking about Jack the Pleskie or maybe Kali. All ugly on the outside, all scared and hurt on the inside, not really wanting to hurt anyone but needing someone else to make the link for them. Needing someone else to try.
He ignores the sense of deja vu, the barely there awareness that his stubbornness might just be rooted in figure eights of flame blue and someone he desperately needed to trust him and keeps on talking to the creature. Somewhere around the seventh day (Will has no idea, he can’t remember if he’s slept, when he ate, who he’s spoken to; he’s more obsessed with Ao Ao than he was with Adam, he thinks) the Ao Ao starts talking. It, he, Will reminds himself, speaks perfect English, barely accented with Guarani, which trust him, is weird coming out of a boar’s head.
The Ao Ao, Maato, he names himself, tells Will of its life before as a protector of the mountains and hills, a peaceful member of a peaceful tribe, all of them content to live apart from humans as long as humans abide by the agreements. The old ways. Now, humans come and take plants and soil and samples (Zviya’s biologicals, Will’s beginning to understand) and the Ao Ao must stop them.
“Why,” Will asks, “Don’t you just explain?” Zviya’s ancestors lived by rules, locations measured in paces, arcs built to exacting specifications, rules of kashrut. She, at least, would be willing to abide by the old ways (or with Will’s help make new ones).
“I cannot.” Maato’s head hangs so low, Will’s loathe to respond, “But you just did,” though it’s the only sensible thing to say. He reminds himself that signs of grief or distress in humans may not be matched with similar emotions in Ao Ao. That Abnormals must not be supposed to think like humans, even the ones who speak like humans. Yet his voice still sounds tentative when he finally says it anyway.
“I explained to you, Will. But I cannot explain to her.”
Will frowns and rakes a hand through his hair. “I don’t understand. Is it because she’s a woman?”
Maato grunts, a very porcine sound, and then laughs a rough, “No. It’s because she’s a lawbreaker.”
Alllllll right, then, this is going to be a problem. Will may need to call in an anthropologist, or consult with one. For now, he gets the information he can. “And it’s your job to punish her, so you can’t speak to her?”
“No, Will. I literally cannot. If I catch her scent, I must chase her until I catch her and kill her or mate her and take an Ao Ao of her bearing back to my tribe. There is,” Maato says and Will thinks he sounds sad about it. “No other way.”
Oh hell no. And he thought Zviya being a lawbreaker was a problem. “You understand I can’t let you do either of those things?” Technically he could, if Zviya wanted to consent to the mating, but he’s extremely reluctant to ask. So reluctant his ‘can’t’ is almost as literal as Maato’s.
“I do. But what can I do? You will have to keep me in this cell forever to keep me from pursuing her.”
That’s when Will realizes it’s not tradition that’s at the root of things but biology. Probably. Okay, yeah, he’s a little slow on the uptake. Magnus probably would’ve caught it at “scent” and maybe so would Zviya, but if Zviya were sitting where he is, she’d be dead or pinned under a boar-man with testicles the size of Will’s head.