werewolf pack leader shiro and vampire Adam? Can have Adam trying to baby sit all of them on a full mom?
This has been sitting here for a hot second and now I got to it. Hope you appreciate it. I went into many Wikipedia spirals to get this done; some include reading the history of paper, muckraking, history of gay bars, and the histories of Japan and the emperors and the Maurya Empire. All for 2200 words.
There was a sensation in the air around them, and Adam knew why. He watched the sun slowly set on the back porch of his home, slowly sipping on a tea as he waited for his dinner to be finished. Though as a vampire he did not really need to eat any food other than blood, he still enjoyed eating and cooking. It was a hobby of his and he had loved it back before he had become a vampire many centuries ago. It was one of the only things he truly remembered about his family. The cookbooks he had created were recipes that had been handed back by his grandparents and parents. Adam had written them down first on stone, and then later paper, so on and so forth. Adam particularly liked writing and had been originally trained to be a diplomat and scribe under the rule of Ashoka. It had been one of these diplomatic missions when he had been ambushed and turned, marking the beginning of the immortal life he lead now. It was sometimes daunting and weary being alive for so long. Many times he found himself missing his family. And every couple of decades had to make moves to hide the fact that he did not age. But he had been alive to see the world change before his very eyes. He would never cease to be amazed at what the human spirit can do. And what damage that can be done because of it.
Adam sipped slowly letting the autumn breeze wash over him. He had been living over across the Atlantic for many years now. He had come over around the time the American Civil War had ended and planted his roots there. He had always loved autumn and loved the way the trees change colors and the temperatures started to cool. The idea of Halloween is one that has always fascinated him, and he loved showing kids his fangs and glowing eyes when they come to get some candy. He’d even dress up like Hollywood thinks they look like, at least what Old Hollywood thought, just for the fun of it.
Adam glanced down at his smartwatch, looking for the time. Sunset would be happening soon and with that the rise of the moon. No messages from Takashi. Adam shook his head and took his phone out typing out a message to his husband.
Hello, and once again welcome to the Adashi angst train.
This story was inspired by a lot of emotions I've been feeling about death of loved ones because I've had a lot of experience with in in these last 18 months, and I just needed an outlet.
It is a work of love, and I had a lot of cartharsis writing it. I hope you will all enjoy the work.
First part is below, you can read the rest of the fic right here.
Title is from Tracy Chapman's song Fast Car.
The storage lockers loomed ahead of him like a never-ending abyss. Rows of them lined either side, and it seemed as if it would go on forever. It was eerily quiet, the only noise the echoes of footsteps every time he moved. Florescent lights were lit in a way that did not make the place feel warm or inviting.
Not that it should be. This place was meant for people to put things that they did not have room for in their lives any longer. It was a place for forgetting.
He felt the key to the lock dig into the flesh of his hand. It was grounding. He needed it because he felt as if he would float right back into space at any moment. He could feel the sweat starting to bead on the back of his neck, giving him a chill. He could feel his heart pounding and pumping blood over time.
“You ready?” Keith asked, his quiet voice echoing in the chamber.
Shiro looked at the boy--no, man, he practically brought up. He sometimes still couldn’t believe how much he had grown. How much time had passed. Where did it all go? How did it all leave so fast?
He was thankful for Keith’s presence. It was a reminder that he wasn’t alone. He gave his brother a small, shaky smile.
“Yeah, let’s go,” he replied. He took the key and put it into the lock. The lock was rusty from misuse, so it took some moving and shaking to finally get it open. He took it out and handed it to Keith. He pushed open the door and turned on the single light that was provided in the space.
All his stuff from before. An old life, from what seemed like a bygone era. It was all neatly packed away in different boxes, stacked in rows. He took a careful step inside and took a shaky breath as he took it all in.
The first box was labled “Civilian Clothes”, in that beautiful, familiar handwriting. A tear sprung into his eye immediately looking at it, and he quickly wiped it away. He had to hold it together.
“Do you want to split up?” Keith wondered. He was also looking around with a pained face. His purple eyes were expressive as he took it all in. Keith was the only one who understood the pain. He was the only one who knew Shiro before.
“It doesn’t matter. I’m not in any rush, really.”
Keith nodded. “Okay. Well, I guess I’ll start in the back?”
He then tried to crack a smile. “Leave it to Adam to keep all your things organized, huh?”
“Yeah, he couldn’t have any disorganization. He kept our place afloat,” Shiro said, in a breathy chuckle.
It still hurt to think that he was really gone. The specter of him still haunted Shiro, and he suspected it would for some time.
They spent time quietly opening all the boxes and sifting through them. Shiro needed some documents for the Garrison. Which was stupid, because they should have all his stuff on file, and he’d been through enough that he didn’t feel he had to go through bureaucratic red tape anymore. But he was proven wrong.
He was just thankful that Adam kept every document on file in a paper copy. Because the Garrison had lost a lot in the Invasion, including most of their digital service records. He quietly sent a private prayer, thanking Adam. He hoped wherever his soul was now, that he could hear it.
A piece of plastic suddenly hit Shiro in the face. He startled back from the document he was looking at, rubbing at his cheekbone where it had hit. He looked down at the open box to see a rectangle shape inside. He picked it up and he felt shock run down his spine.
“What is that?” Keith finally asked with a big smirk.
“My first driver’s license,” Shiro replied, breathless.
The piece of rectangular plastic was an Arizona license. On the left side was a small picture of him, when he was sixteen. This Shiro was young, fresh-faced, and excited to take on the world. A large grin was plastered across his entire face. He looked ready for whatever life would give him. This Shiro had been innocent. If only he knew what laid ahead for him.
Keith had come over to stand next to him to look over his shoulder.
“Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you that young before.”
Shiro scoffed and gave a gentle smack to his shoulder. Keith didn’t reply, but just gave a small smile.
“Yeah, I can’t believe I ever looked like that. I remember the day I got it.”
“You do?”
“Yeah,” Shiro said. He felt the memory wash over him like a gentle tide in the water.
Humph.” Hakim sharply inhaled, and let out a slow exhale. “When he wakes up, you need to tell him.”
Shiro shook his head a protest already surfacing on his lips. “I don’t think-”
“I don’t care what you think,” Hakim interrupted. His voice was as smooth and cold as ice. His amber eyes were an inferno.
“When he wakes up, he’s going to want to know what happened. You have lied to him enough times. It’s time. We both have to face up to the truth.”
Shiro often forgot that the wiping of Adam’s memories didn’t only impact him. Hakim, the closest person Adam had in his life, had also lied to him by keeping the game in play. He never revealed what had actually happened. Why Adam had forgotten so much of his life, and had to start anew. He had hidden all the photos of him and Shiro away from prying eyes. All the memories they shared, the evidence wiped away as well. He had to bring in his wife, and their family into the act too. They all had a part to play.
It was a heavy burden that was not any easier shared. And now they needed to let it go. Whether it crashed and burned, or dissipated into the air like mist was the unknown.
Shiro let out a heavy sigh. “Okay,” he whispered.
Adam slowly moved his line of vision until he saw him. His amber eye widened and a sharp inhale caught in his chest. He started to cough, and Shiro quickly grabbed a glass of water to give to him. Both he and Hakim adjusted Adam so he could sit up better to drink. Adam took small sips, wetting his lips before wiping them, dragging the wires attached to his hand and arm with it.
“You,” he finally rasped out.
Shiro remained silent. It started to engulf the entire room as it dragged on the minutes.
Adam adverted his gaze, and his face went slack as he stared into nothing. Hakim leaned in worry, squeezing his hand.
“Adam?”
“Why?” he finally asked, his voice scraping along his throat and vocal chords. Shiro knew the rest of the question that wasn’t shared.
“Why is there a photo of the two of us at the Garrison? I only met you this year.”
Adam seemed suddenly small, and confused. Like a lost child. It broke Shiro’s heart a bit. This was all his doing.
Hakim and Shiro shared a long look between them two. Adam was still staring into a middle distance neither of them could see or reach.
The moment of truth.
“Because we do know each other,” Shiro finally admitted. It felt as if his guts were spilling out of his body with him. His heart was about ready to burst right from his chest. His head felt light at the confession. It was dizzying. It felt like he was flying.
“We’ve known each other for a long time now.”
Adam closed his eyes tight, and he grimaced as if he was in pain. “The photo. The caption said we were best friends.”
Shiro nodded in conformation. “It’s true. We were. We were roommates, flight partners, best friends.”
He let his voice trail off before the end. Was it wise to share that they had eventually become more than friends? That they had started to build a beautiful life together before it all came crashing down on them?
Hakim raised an eyebrow, wondering the same thing. Would he be brave enough to tell the whole truth?
Shiro sucked in a deep breath. He owed it to Adam. He swallowed his nausea down.
“And we eventually became more.”
Adam’s eyes snapped open, and he whipped his head toward Shiro. “What do you mean?” he demanded.
Shiro bit his lip. He looked Adam right in the eye. “We were together. Fiances even.”
Adam’s face pinched, his eyebrows dragged down, his lips pursed. He was looking at Shiro for any lies. His breathing picked up.
“You lie,” he accused. “I met you in my tea shop this year.”
“It’s not a lie. Our life together was not a lie.”
Adam shook his head, tears starting to pool in his eyes. He blinked them back furiously. His heartrate was spiking on the monitor.
“It has to be a lie. I would remember if I had a life with you before. I would!” His voice was rising.
Shiro could count the number of times he had heard Adam raise his voice on one hand. Unfortunately the last time was one he would rather not remember. The echoes of his desperate pleas haunted him.
i read a book once where this girl was romantically involved with this guy who had a twin and they would punk her all the time and be like which one is your boyfriend you have to kiss the right one and then it turned out one of them was evil and trapped her in a dungeon with a bunch of rats or some shit
I know Adam’s handwriting is neat, but how neat? My past math teachers have somewhat decent handwriting, but sometimes I can’t even read it, and my history teacher is so much worse 😭😭
Footage of me sweating during this heatwave and also at all the unanswered asks that have been sitting here for well over a year
Anywayyyyy is English is super neat! But when he writes in his native Persian alphabet script (Pashto and Dari) it looks a bit more scribbles and messier, especially to those not familiar with it!
I RISE FROM THE DEAD WITH A SNIPPET OF A MEMORY WIPE/AMNESIA/TEASHOP FIC
The two of them walked up to the front counter. On the back wall it was made out of a chalkboard, and in beautiful writing was the Spring Teas that were being offered. Shiro went down the list with curiosity, and felt himself stop dead as he read the last one. Rashida’s Famous Vanilla Spice Chai.
Shiro knew that blend. It seemed like another life time ago, and in many ways it was. Memories that he had tried his hardest to suppress into the deepest parts of his mind forced their way back to the front. The sweet aroma that often filled the living room of the small Garrison issued apartment that helped start and end their days peacefully.
The excitement when a familiar package arrived in the mail containing the tea. The love that emanate from each spoonful that filled a tea kettle.
The barista who was working the front counter had their back turned to them. Shiro tore his eyes away from the menu, and forced them onto him. He was very tall, standing like a sunflower. He towered over everyone around him. The copper hair was on the longer side now, with half of it pulled up into a small ponytail that curled on itself. Shiro felt his stomach curdle in anticipation and dread of who he knew was behind this counter.
The man finally turned around, and a familiar pair of glasses perched elegantly on the high bridge of that nose was all it took for Shiro to know for sure who this was. Burn scars covered the left side of his face, and Shiro knew that his left eye was not real, but a glass one, the iris made of amber. He was still as beautiful as the day Shiro fell in love with him.
Adam. It was him. In all the places in the city, Keith had taken him to the place where his lost love worked. He looked over at his companion, who also had a look of shock written over his face.
Since the Incident, they had been afraid to keep in touch with Adam. They weren’t sure how well Allura had wiped the memories of Adam from before, and whether Adam would even remember Keith at all now that Shiro had been erased. How would it make sense for Adam to have ever known Keith if that connection from Shiro had been severed? It wasn’t worth the risk in trying.
“Hello, and welcome to the Crossroads Tea Cafe,” Adam greeted. Both Keith and Shiro shook out their shock.
The warm tone of voice washed over Shiro with a familiarity he had not felt in years. He stared at Adam, who was giving a small smile, that only lifted on the right side of his face due to the scarring. But it was still wonderful. His amber eyes were comforting and welcoming as they always had been.
“Hi,” Shiro managed to breath out. It felt as if he had been suckerpunched right in the stomach.
“Hi,” Adam repeated. There was no hint of any recognition in his eyes. “I’m Adam, and who are you?”
“Uh,” he floundered. Keith intercepted on their behalf.
“I’m Keith, and this is my brother Shiro,” he introduced.
I RISE FROM THE DEAD WITH A SNIPPET OF A MEMORY WIPE/AMNESIA/TEASHOP FIC
The two of them walked up to the front counter. On the back wall it was made out of a chalkboard, and in beautiful writing was the Spring Teas that were being offered. Shiro went down the list with curiosity, and felt himself stop dead as he read the last one. Rashida’s Famous Vanilla Spice Chai.
Shiro knew that blend. It seemed like another life time ago, and in many ways it was. Memories that he had tried his hardest to suppress into the deepest parts of his mind forced their way back to the front. The sweet aroma that often filled the living room of the small Garrison issued apartment that helped start and end their days peacefully.
The excitement when a familiar package arrived in the mail containing the tea. The love that emanate from each spoonful that filled a tea kettle.
The barista who was working the front counter had their back turned to them. Shiro tore his eyes away from the menu, and forced them onto him. He was very tall, standing like a sunflower. He towered over everyone around him. The copper hair was on the longer side now, with half of it pulled up into a small ponytail that curled on itself. Shiro felt his stomach curdle in anticipation and dread of who he knew was behind this counter.
The man finally turned around, and a familiar pair of glasses perched elegantly on the high bridge of that nose was all it took for Shiro to know for sure who this was. Burn scars covered the left side of his face, and Shiro knew that his left eye was not real, but a glass one, the iris made of amber. He was still as beautiful as the day Shiro fell in love with him.
Adam. It was him. In all the places in the city, Keith had taken him to the place where his lost love worked. He looked over at his companion, who also had a look of shock written over his face.
Since the Incident, they had been afraid to keep in touch with Adam. They weren’t sure how well Allura had wiped the memories of Adam from before, and whether Adam would even remember Keith at all now that Shiro had been erased. How would it make sense for Adam to have ever known Keith if that connection from Shiro had been severed? It wasn’t worth the risk in trying.
“Hello, and welcome to the Crossroads Tea Cafe,” Adam greeted. Both Keith and Shiro shook out their shock.
The warm tone of voice washed over Shiro with a familiarity he had not felt in years. He stared at Adam, who was giving a small smile, that only lifted on the right side of his face due to the scarring. But it was still wonderful. His amber eyes were comforting and welcoming as they always had been.
“Hi,” Shiro managed to breath out. It felt as if he had been suckerpunched right in the stomach.
“Hi,” Adam repeated. There was no hint of any recognition in his eyes. “I’m Adam, and who are you?”
“Uh,” he floundered. Keith intercepted on their behalf.
“I’m Keith, and this is my brother Shiro,” he introduced.