Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Sasha loves people, but she’s never loved people right, so what does that say about her? 

Barrett told her that it was good, that love was a weakness, that her inability meant she could use people, bend them to her will. But Sasha’s never liked doing that, either. 

“Hamid,” she said, on one particularly quiet night in Cairo, “What’s it like to love people?”

He looked confused. “I don’t really know what you mean, Sasha.”

She picked at her nails uncomfortably. “I don’t really… don’t really love people.”

“Oh Sasha,” said Hamid, putting a small hand on her shoulder. “But you do. You care about me, and-”

“No,” said Sasha, beginning to get frustrated. “I mean, I care about people, but I don’t love them.”

Hamid looked blank. 

“Look,” said Sasha. “You loved Liliana, and-”

“I’d hardly say I loved  her.” Hamid scoffed. “Infatuated, maybe.”

“Well, I don’t feel that.” said Sasha. “About anyone.”

“Oh- Oh,” said Hamid, his eyes widening with understanding. “But Sasha, that doesn’t mean you don’t love people. And I hardly think I could explain it to you, anyway. I don’t-” he paused. “I don’t really feel that about people, either. 

“But-”

“Romantically, yes,” said Hamid.. ‘But not anything else.”

“But I don’t even feel that!” Sasha threw her hands up. “What’s the point of having a girlfriend when I have my daggers?”

“Not all of us have daggers,” said Azu from the side of the room. 

“So if you can’t use knives, that’s when you need a relationship.”

“If I could throw knives like you, I certainly wouldn’t need a relationship, said Hamid.  

Grizzop nodded “It’s the same with arrows, Sasha.”

“Ah,” said Sasha. “And when you’re undead, it’s not like a relationship can last over a month!”

“We will bring you back,” said Azu. 

“You’ll try,” said Sasha.

“But what have we failed at before?” asked Azu, completely missing the warning gaze Hamid shot her. 

“Saving Hamid’s sister.” Sasha tossed a dagger in the air. “Bertie. Paris. Zolf. A lot of people died by the zombies in Prague.” Sasha flipped her dagger again, in an intricate pattern. “Oh wait. That’s my  group of people. Better kill me too, before I do something awful.”

“You’ll have a life, Sasha,” said Azu. “we will make sure of it.”

“Oh, sure,” said Sasha. “Yeah, okay. Can we rob a pyramid?”

“What?”

“You know-” Sasha looked at Hamid. “Doesn’t your sister have a right nice place to rob? I bet it wouldn’t be hard to get in. Saleh did, anyway. I bet I could do it better than him.”

Hamid looked worried. Azu and Grizzop looked torn. “On one hand,” said Azu, voicing all of their thoughts, “It would make Sasha happy. On the other hand, robbery is a bad thing.”

“I bet we can find somewhere else for you to rob, Sasha,” said Hamid. 

Sasha sulked. “I wanna rob somewhere that has real traps. Not like a house.”

“Don’t worry Sasha!” said Grizzop. “We’ll find plenty of places for you to rob that deserve it.”

Sasha couldn’t keep the grin out of her voice. “Ah, thanks, Grizzop.”

Chapter Text

Azu knew that she was not good at relationships. Azu knew that the world expected her to be some sort of love goddess, and she was happy to be the heart and soul of the team. But the way people wanted her to love, that was something she was extremely uninterested in.

Azu kept out of relationships. Not out of choice, but out of necessity. Loving people was not as easy as she was taught. Perhaps that was one of the reasons she joined the church of Aphrodite, the overwhelming need to love people, and the overwhelming thoughts in her head that told her she could never do it right.

And Azu did love people, unequivocally, and deeper than anybody she knew. Still, when things started to go right with Kiko, Azu was immediately worried. 

“Do you- I mean, are you sure? That you like me? Um, love me? Kind of?” asked Azu, wincing at her own word choice.    

“Yes,” said Kiko, smiling. “I like you, more than most people I’ve met, and I think I love you too.”

“Oh,” said Azu. “That’s good. I just wanted to make sure because- I mean, I’ve had bad experiences with this- I mean relationships before, and I wanted to make sure I had the right idea.”

“Can’t imagine why you've had bad experiences, though,” said Kiko, snuggling a bit closer to Azu. “You’re the best person I’ve met.”

“Yes, well,” said Azu, trying to ignore the heat rising in her cheeks. 

“I promise,” said Kiko, “That this is exactly what I want with you. Kiko looked up at Azu, eyes heavy. “Can I just fall asleep on you tonight?”

Azu looked at Kiko, curled on her chest, and smiled. “I snore,” she said. 

“I don’t mind,” said Kiko, stretching and settling so that her head was resting on Azu’s heart. 

Azu felt a warmth spread in her. “I love you,” said Azu. Kiko said nothing, but snuggled closer to Azu. 

And Azu was content like that. 

Chapter Text

“Hey, buddy,” said Cel, looking down at Hamid, and resisting the urge to pick him up. He was just so small. “Why aren’t you dancing?”

“Oh,” he said. “Um… I’m not really- I don’t really like that sort of thing, Cel.” Hamid looked very nervous. 

“But Azu was telling me all about something you did in Damascus, um-”

Hamid winced. “Please never bring that up again.”

“Oh. Alright then, little buddy. But out of everyone here, I always thought you were the one most likely to know how to dance, I mean, not that I’ll force you or anything, but you grew up in central London, so I kind of assumed that you know how to dance? Unless you’re embarrassed, or-” Cel covered their mouth. “Are you embarrassed? I’m so sorry, Hamid-”

”It’s alright, Cel,” Hamid cut in. “I know how.”

“Do you want to be taller?” asked Cel. “Because I have a new potion that will really stretch out your bones, and I’ve been meaning to see how it works with halflings, because with me, I get twenty feet tall and it doesn’t go away for at least an hour, but if I test it on someone with a lower BMI it might last longer…” Cel trailed off, still thinking, until they realized that they were still standing in front of Hamid. “Oh!” They held out their arm. “Would you like to dance?”

Hamid smiled. “Of course I would, Cel.”

“So why didn’t you want to dance?” asked Cel, currently on their knees and still taller then Hamid. 

“Oh,” said Hamid. “I like the- well, it’s not the dancing I don’t like. The dancing’s fine.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“If I dance, people assume things.”

Cel nodded. “Like if I wear a skirt, even though they have so many places to keep tools, people think things? Or when I have a potion that-”

“Yes, exactly!” said Hamid. “And I like the dancing, but I don’t like it when people just assume that I want to dance with them. Or that dancing with them means something other than-” he motioned- “Dancing.”

“Ah.” said Cel. “I have an idea, if you’d like to help me? That way you can dance and people won’t make assumptions?”

“What is it?” asked Hamid, a bit nervous. He didn’t particularly want to be on the receiving end of one of Cel’s experiments.

Cel smiled wickedly. “So on average, a kobold is two feet to two feet five inches tall. That means if we were to take two kobolds and you, you’d be at an appropriate dancing height for Azu. Now, I’ve been thinking about the way that we measure the average- let’s call it dexterity- of a creature, and with a little luck and a good amount of balance, we should be able to get you, Draal, and Sassra on top of each other. Of course, I’ll assist, but I don’t think that will be necessary. Now, at that point, you’ll function as one being and so-” Cel gestured to their longcoat- “We can put this over you and the kobolds, and you can have a semi-normal dance with Azu.” Cel looked at Hamid expectantly. 

“Would Sassra and Draal be okay with this?” asked Hamid.

“Of course!” said Cel. “I've been talking to them about it, and they both agree it would be massively entertaining.” They reconsidered. “I mean, it’ll be a wonderful bonding activity.”

Hamid sighed. It did sound interesting, if nothing else. “Alright,” he said. 

“Great!” said Cel. “Draal? Sassra? Hamid agrees!” 

Hamid had never seen this type of dangerous excitement on the kobold’s faces. 

Still, he had agreed, and so wearily, he climbed on Sassa’s shoulders, and Cel draped their coat over the three of them. 

“Where are we going?” asked Draal from the bottom of the coat. Hamid would have felt bad for him, having to support the other two, but there was so much sheer joy in Draal’s voice, Hamid just felt a bit worried. 

“Over to Azu,” he said, pointing before realizing that Draal couldn’t see anything at all. “Will you be able to get there?”

“Don’t worry,” said Draal. 

Sure enough, Hamid found that the three of them made their way to Azu quite easily. “Hello, Azu,” said Hamid, tapping her on the shoulder to get her attention, and smiled. 

“Hamid?” Azu looked confused for a second before she saw distinctly not-Hamid’s feet underneath the trench coat. 

“Um- Cel had an idea,” said Hamid in explanation. 

“I understand,” said Azu. “Is Draal okay?”

“I’m fine!”

Zolf and Wilde had caught sight of Hamid, and were now well on their way over. “Bloody hell, Hamid,” said Zolf. Wilde just looked impressed. 

“Cel?” asked Wilde. 

Zolf smacked Wilde on the shoulder. “Don’t encourage them.”

“It’s… interesting.” said Wilde. 

And that was all Wilde got out before a stack of kobolds fell on top of him. 

“Oh dear! ”

Chapter Text

There’s a thrill in being desired. Not loved, and never loved. Love is difficult to come across in the best of times, and rarely ever worth it. So Wilde flirts his way through the world, loving the empty nights and the stares, not caring at all for the people he manipulates. 

What do people matter when there’s a game to be played? There are cards to hide in your sleeve, illusions to create, dice weighted and eyes watering. There’s a royal flush waiting just across the table, and all he has to do is smile.

Wilde hates himself. 

Adrenaline floods his system when he plays the game, enough so that he almost forgets the bone-deep dislike of his own actions. Still, it’s hard to forget the reason for that kind of visceral revulsion from your own body when you spend all your time using it as a tool. 

And it’s not that he dislikes the sex. Quite the opposite, in fact. Sex is something he does. Love is something he fakes. 

It almost makes him sick, the lies, the illusions, but an illusionist deals in more than magic, so he puts on a smile and his clothes, and walks out as if there’s a reason he hates the connection. Knowing that everybody else in the world wants him for more than a night, knowing that he is utterly and completely unable to feel what they do, so he plays the lavish lie up, and takes on the role of heartbreaker. 

Wilde came to terms long ago with the fact that he would never have the kind of relationship people whispered in his ears about, and he knows the words for his predicament. Aromantic, but that means nothing when he’s still the exact kind of person he is, cold and manipulative. 

Perhaps not cold, but manipulative was something you would be foolish not to assume when meeting him. 

The smile was always a bit practiced, the gleam in his eyes always a silver danger, the handshake gripping like claws. He wanted to have what people wanted of him, and at the same time, he was utterly revolted by the expectations. 

No, he would not enjoy the kind of relationship that is expected, but all the same, it seems like the only one you can have. It is to die alone, or to force yourself into a standard of love you do not understand. 

So he keeps the smile on, he keeps himself in the right place, and he plays the game, pretending that the pain doesn’t seep into him like blood on his white shirt. 

If he hates himself, why not have fun with it?

Chapter Text

The world was gray. All covered in people and diamonds and caverns that should have glittered, but the room itself was painted a dull, claylike color. 

Save for the blue. 

He was blue, and when he coughed, it was blue as well. 

Sasha looked gray when she came to him, for he saw her from where he laid on the floor, and she screamed. 

His eyes closed, and she was all covered in blue, a spot of light in the dark, gray room. Grizzop smiled. 

He would join the eternal hunt, Sasha would live, and the world would be better.

Chapter Text

“Why are you so heartless?” yelled Zolf, waving his arms furiously. “People are dying out there, and you want to sit in here and talk about ‘acceptable casualties!’ No casualty should be acceptable, Wilde!” 

“I don’t know,” said WIlde, his voice suddenly as cold as it was on inspection days. “Tell me, why am I so heartless? It makes sense, I suppose, that I’ve never felt love, so perhaps I am exactly that heartless. But we can’t risk our team getting infected, and I’m afraid you’re still only a field agent.” 

Zolf was silent. 

“Go,” said Wilde, waving a hand in the direction of the door. “And I’ll sort it out, you know, like I always do.”

“Damn you, Wilde,” said Zolf, slamming the door on his way out. 

---

Wilde sat, his face in his hands, stifling the tears. 

The words weren’t what hurt. It was the fact that they were true. Wilde didn’t love people, and that was a fact as true as the knowledge that he was beautiful. 

Had been beautiful. Absentmindedly, Wilde stroked the scar on his cheek. There were more important things than his feelings.

---

Zolf was making food as angrily as he could in the kitchen, which had the innkeeper glaring at him. Normally, Zolf would take notice of this, but he was much too busy making a ruckus. 

As much of a bastard Wilde was, this was going to be a good meal. 

An hour later, Zolf stalked up to Wilde’s room. He had mostly cooled off from the skirmish, but the food was piping hot. 

“Got food,” he called. No matter how irked Zolf was at the man, it wasn’t his thing to ignore boundaries. 

“Come in,” Zolf heard Wilde call. Wilde didn’t sound upset or annoyed. He just sounded tired. 

“Hey,” said Zolf, carefully setting down the tray next to Wilde’s paperwork. He figured he should apologize, right? 

“I’m sorry,” Zolf bit out. “I was… unkind.”

“No,” said Wilde. “I overreacted. It wasn’t a big deal, and I took it to be one.”

There was a pause. 

“I don’t love people,” said Wilde. “I care about people but… I don’t love them. That’s why your comment hit so hard.”

Zolf frowned. “Tell me if I’m wrong, but… I’m fairly certain you love me.”

Wilde laughed but it was the breathy kind of sound that one makes right before they start crying. “Of course I do, Zolf,” said Wilde, “But- and no offense here, as I’m sure you are wonderful- you’re not my lover. And I don’t want you to be.”

“That wasn’t a proposal,” said Zolf. 

‘No, no, I know.” Wilde waved his hand. “I don’t actually want anyone to be my lover, that’s what makes me heartless.”

Zolf opened his mouth, but WIlde spoke first. “Yes, I’ve had relationships in the past, but surely you’ve noticed they weren’t based on love?” Wilde paused. “If you truly thought I liked Bertie, let's set that record as straight as is strictly possible here.”

“Noted,” said Zolf. “If it makes you feel better, I don’t love people in the right ways, either.”

“Really? I see you, you care about people- Zolf, you possibly care more than anybody I’ve met.”

“I don’t do the sex thing.” Zolf turned a little red. 

“Oh- oh.” Wilde wracked his brain for an appropriate pun to lighten the mood, but the only ones he could think of, he was sure would make the conversation more awkward. “Hm.” Wilde looked up at Zolf. “I’m afraid you’ve left me quite out of things to say.”

“Bullshit,” said Zolf. “I can think of three rude jokes you can make in this situation, just off the top of my head.”

Wilde opened his mouth. 

“ But I’m glad you’re keeping quiet,” said Zolf, in a tone that made the threat crystal clear. 

“If I was going to be in a relationship with anyone, it would be you, Zolf,” said Wilde, before he could stop himself. Oops.

“Thanks?”

“I mean- I still don’t want a relationship- but- I hope you’ll stay with me after the war,” he finished lamely. 

Zolf nodded slowly. “Yeah.” 

There was a long, awkward silence. 

“So,” said Zolf. “Let’s get this plan worked out.”

Wilde nodded, and shuffled so that the papers were in front of the two of them, more determined than ever. 

Chapter Text

“I don’t do relationships,” said Sasha, flipping her knife absently. 

“Really?” asked Wilde, more intrigued than accusatory. 

“Me neither,” said Grizzop from where he was sharpening an arrow. “Too much work. I don’t have time for that sort of thing.”

Azu fingered her necklace. “Everybody expects me to do relationships, but I don’t, really. Not that much. And not anymore.” She paused. “And never right.” 

“Well then, I suppose in the interest of sharing,” said Wilde, “Neither do I.” He nodded at Azu. “Of course, it is very much expected.”

“Yeah, you do!” exclaimed Sasha. “You know…” She paused, and lowered her voice. “Bertie.”

Azu looked back and forth between Wilde and Sasha. “I feel like there is a story I am missing here.”

“You’ll get used to it,” said Grizzop, matter-of-factly.

“You don’t want to hear it,” piped up Hamid. “And what about Bertie?”

“Oh honestly, do you think I actually cared about him?”

“For your own sake,” said Grizzop, “I hope you didn’t.”

Wilde looked at Grizzop. “I did not.”

“Oh, good,” said Sasha. “Did you really have to get yourself to the point where he wanted to kill you, though?”

“I’m afraid he’s not the only person that’s wanted to kill me.”

“Nah,” said Sasha. “Zolf tried. ‘Bout the only thing those two agreed on. I woulda tried too, but it seemed unfair when we first met you.”

Wilde raised an eyebrow. “Unfair? I’m almost offended, Sasha.”

“I mean, before we saw you had magic. I wouldn’t hesitate to try and kill you now.”

“Thank you.”

“Great,” said Grizzop. “I still do not like you at all.”

“Nah,” said Sasha, “He’s fun.”

Grizzop raised an eyebrow. 

“He’s pun,” said Sasha. 

Wilde winced. At least the frankly awful puns could distract him from the lack of sleep.  “I missed your razor sharp wit.”

“Ah!” exclaimed Sasha again. “That’s very knife of you.” Get it? Because I have knives and stuff? And you said I was sharp, so-”

“It gets dull if you explain it. The trick is assuming people understand.”

Sasha just clapped Wilde on the back. “Good one!” 

He winced.  

“ Anyway, ” said Grizzop clearly trying to stem the amount of awful puns the two were making, “I think that-”

“Get to the point, Grizzop,” said Sasha, looking at Wilde for approval.  

“I suggest we listen to him,” said Wilde, eyebrows raised. “We need to resolve this situation quickly, even with the factory already glassed. I assume we’re cutting it quite close, when we look at the time we have.”

Grizzop glared. “Both of you stop, or I will shoot your knees off.”