#Ambrose is just fully leaning in to the pet stuff huh

[echo-goes-mmm]

Divine Intervention AU #9

Masterpost

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Warnings: none

Ambrose had transformed his fabric front door into a solid wooden one, and in hindsight that was a mistake. It was juicy bait to his more… nosy neighbors. 

“Ambrose!” called Emry from the door. “Open up, kiddo! We haven’t seen you in weeks!”

Ambrose sighed. He opened the door to find both Emry and Mael on his doorstep. Emry threw his arms around Ambrose. Okay, he couldn’t turn down one of Emry’s hugs. They were just so nice.

“It’s been a week, if that. And you’re not that much older than me.” 

“Oh, Ambrose,” said Mael, smiling. “You’re never going to win that one.”

“Mhm. What brings you both to visit?”

Emry grinned. “I heard you brought home a friend. Can I meet him? I brought a present!” He procured a stuffed mouse toy from his pocket.

“Emry, did you think I got a cat?” laughed Ambrose. Emry pouted.

“Well, Cato wasn’t really specific.”

“Does that mean I won?” interrupted Mael. He held up his hand, which had a dog chew in the shape of a bone. “I totally called it.”

“No way! Ambrose is totally a cat person,” argued Emry.

“Well, both of you are wrong. Elliot is a mortal. And yes, you can meet him, but he’s skittish, so tone it down a little. And no weapons!” Mael vanished his sword.

He led them inside, where Elliot was working on a jigsaw puzzle. He looked up at them, startled.

“Pet, this is Mael-” Mael waved- “and this is Emry. They’re friends of mine.”

“Well hi there, kiddo!” 

“Um. Hello.”

___________________

The two gods, Mael and Emry, looked very different from Cato and Ambrose. Their eyes were a normal brown and so was their hair. Mael was muscular and toned, and he looked like one of those old statues in his white and red toga. 

Emry was short for a god, and was the opposite of lean and lanky. He also wore a toga, but his was powder blue and he had freckles all over. 

Elliot wasn’t sure about Mael, but he immediately liked Emry. 

“I’m going to make some tea,” said Ambrose. He disappeared into the kitchen, leaving him alone with the others. Uh oh.

“So,” said Mael, flopping down on the couch. “Where ya from?”

“Uh. Azoth, sir,” He made a face.

“Don’t be rude, Mael,” Emry chastised. “I’m sure it’s a very nice place.”

“It’s a slaver’s country, Emry.”

“Oh.” 

Emry sat on the nearest armchair. “How did you meet Ambrose?”

“I was about to be sacrificed on his altar, and he didn’t want me to die.” 

“Oh.”

They lapsed into silence. 

“So do you like living here?” asked Mael.

“Yes. It’s very nice. I like the koi pond,” he said.

“Oh!” exclaimed Mael, “I conjured that. The fountain took a bit of work but I think I blended the stone in well. What do you think of the colors on the fish? I picked the color pallet from mortal fish of course-” Mael went on about the fish as Ambrose brought in the tea.

“He can go on for hours,” stage-whispered Ambrose. Emry snorted into his cup.

“Hey!” said Mael, in what was clearly mock-offense. “He brought it up.”

“It’s a very nice pond, sir. And the fish are very pretty.”

Mael beamed. “At least someone appreciates what I do.”

“We all love your creations, hun,” said Emry. He turned to Elliot. “I’m glad you’re here. It’s nice to see Ambrose making new friends.”

Ambrose sputtered. “I have plenty of friends!”

“I didn’t mean that,” said Emry, “just that you don’t branch out much. You don’t see the gods outside our little villa very often, and you restrict yourself to the people who come to your temple.” Ambrose frowned.

 “Not that there’s anything wrong with that!” he added.

“Nice save, Emry,” said Mael, dryly.

They chatted over his head for a while, and they did include him in conversation, but Elliot just wanted to do the puzzle Ambrose had gotten him. But he was polite, and soon enough Master Ambrose’s friends left.

Master poured himself another cup of tea, and sat quietly for a while as Elliot worked on the puzzle.

“What are you thinking about?” said Ambrose.

“Not much,” he said. But there was something Emry had said that stuck in his mind. He called the place they were living in a “little villa”. And there were even more gods outside of it. He shuddered at the thought. If Ambrose didn’t know all of them, like Emry said, there was nothing between him and getting snatched up.

“Master?”

“Hm?” 

“Could… could I have a collar?” Please say yes, he thought. Master Ambrose put down the teacup. Bad sign.

“Why would you want a collar?” Master uncrossed his ankles, leaning towards him.

“I- I just.” He took a deep breath. “Um. There’s a lot of people around.” He fidgeted with the puzzle pieces. 

“Do you feel unsafe?” asked Ambrose.

“A little,” he admitted. “Not everybody knows I’m yours.”

Master hummed. “And will a collar help you feel safe?”

Was this a trick question?

“I think so? I could take it off if- if it doesn’t work.”

“Well… I suppose I did promise you could wear whatever you wanted. If you want a collar, I’ll get you one.”

___________________

Ambrose thought it over. He wouldn’t go back on his word, it wouldn’t be fair. Some part of him worried what the others might think, but fuck it. They knew Ambrose better than anyone, and Cato probably already knew he was Elliot’s Master. He overheard Elliot tell Mael and Emry that he was both a sacrifice and from a slaver’s country. It didn’t take a genius to guess what that meant.

No one would think poorly of Ambrose if Elliot started wearing a collar. And aside from Mael, his brother Maelys, or maybe Valerian, no one would comment on it. 

If Elliot wanted a collar, Ambrose would get him the best damn collar he could conjure.

___________________

It took a few tries to get it right, but Ambrose was confident Elliot would like it. Soft black leather with a fur lining, it would be comfortable. He made the brass buckle as lightweight as possible, and there was a brass o-ring in front. It was a collar, after all.

 He did take the liberty of making the stitching a burnt yellow, so it would blend better with the black. Yellow was his color, and with the serpent sigil carved into the leather, no one could claim they didn’t know Elliot was under his care.

Hopefully it would help Elliot feel protected.

“Treasure,” he called, before stepping into the room, “I got you a present.”

Elliot looked up from his bowl of pasta. His eyes focused in on the leather in Ambrose’s hand. He put down the fork.

___________________ 

“Is that for me? Really?” he whispered. 

“Of course.” Ambrose sat in the chair next to him. Elliot looked closely at it. A snake was carved into the side, and it was so pretty. Intricate and detailed, he could see each scale, and the brass of the ring and buckle was so shiny. Master looped the leather around Elliot’s neck. It was so soft on the inside. Master Ambrose’s fingers brushed the nape of his neck as he fastened the collar.

“How is it?” he asked. He slipped two fingers underneath to test the fit. “Not too tight?”

“It’s perfect, Master. Thank you.”

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