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bbugyu · 3 years

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of all the views you had seen, there was little that could compare to him.

6.2k | cavalry captain!jeonghan x gn pyro!reader, genshin impact au, fluff, adventure, drinking, so much flirting, mentions of trauma, honestly this is the sweetest i'm ever gonna write jeonghan

happy inazuma release day!!! it's your local kaeya trash, because i predictably fall for gay bastards that lie straight to my face (example: jeonghan), and i'm here to give you a fic i wrote AGES ago and just polished up a bit to celebrate the release of what is likely going to be my FAVORITE region in genshin impact. i'm japanese so 😅 i have a soft spot. if there's any other gaymer carats out there, enjoy this one. if not, sorry! you can actually probably still read this and understand it for the most part, though you might miss a bit of context of the landscape and the lore.

ps. go tell @babiemingoo that wonwoo xinqiu 🤭

your work with the adventurer's guild was always efficient. you received your commissions, you carried them out, then returned for your reward, usually before the sun had even peaked. the rest of your day was generally spent either basking in the eternal sun of mondstadt, feeding cats in inazuma, or enjoying a hard earned meal in liyue, depending on where you decided to stay that week, finding board and paying for it with the commission you had earned that day. your tendency to wander came less from choice and more from nature - you could call yourself a nomad, but generally, you just got bored, and preferred seeing everything teyvat had to offer rather than settling in one place. adventuring was simply what you were meant to do, your mother had told you at a young age.

she, too, had wandered for most of her youth, and didn't stop just because you had come into her life. you remembered getting scooped up because you had wandered off a bit too close to the railing at wangshu inn as a toddler, playing with dogs at the docks of liyue harbor. you remembered the ludi harpastum and the first time you had ever had a sweet honey roast, and the way it made your eyes grow ten times in size before you dug in for more.

when your vision was bestowed upon you, you already knew how to use a sword. it was important, your mother told you, that you knew how to protect yourself. she had a vision as well, younger even than you had, and you had come to recognize the static in the air as a sign that she was angry - whether it was because of an altercation with someone on your journey or because you had secretly eaten the last hashbrown without consulting her first.

she used her vision and a sturdy blade she had owned since before you were born to protect the two of you on the road, but when she felt you were old enough, she taught you how to weild. a two handed weapon that was far too big for you when you were only fourteen, but when your reckless abandon got paired with a spark, you suddenly became far more dangerous than even your own mother. she scolded you for nearly starting a forest fire when you tried to pair the two skills for the first time after receiving your vision, and you both agreed that training was a beach activity from then on.

your mother settled eventually, after you were old and skilled enough to take on the road alone, pulling the many favors she had gathered in her travels to build a home in a small neighborhood south of liyue harbor, nestled in the foothills of mount tianheng, where you visited as often as your wandering allowed.

you had become much better with your vision. more careful but just as hot. quick to scan situations and strategize in the moment, hardly taking a second before jumping into action, slaying hilichurls like you were getting paid. well, you were, you supposed, but you had been doing this long before you had discovered the benefit of joining the guild. you were good at it. you were built for adventure, but revelled in leisure. there was good reason you were able to take afternoons off, and you milked every last second of it.

"you're back in town?"

you grinned, leaning your sword against the wall and dropping your bag off your shoulders before settling at the bar. "for now."

rubin often served you alcohol - when you were in mondstadt, at least, however often that may be - but never questioned you deeply. he would ask how your travels were, and listen to your stories from regions beyond his knowledge, of the cultures that he had only heard of from people like you. he enjoyed them just about as much as any, if not a little more, purely because your tenacious personality brought something more to the table. he wondered, though, how long you intended to keep living day by day, sleeping in different beds every week.

"what's wrong with sleeping in different beds?" you teased, laughing into your wine glass. "if i didn't know any better, i'd think you were shaming me, rube."

rubin simply laughed, knowing your tone by now. "i just wonder if you ever intend on digging in your roots, or if you'll continue travelling forever."

"if i dig roots, you may never see me again. is that what you want?"

"what," he said. "you don't like mondstadt?"

"i love monstadt," you assured him. "but i also love inazuma. and my mother is in liyue, though she might be upset with me if i try to settle too close to her. perhaps natlan would suit me more?" you shrugged finally, the door behind you opening as you finished with "i suppose i'll settle when i've found a reason to love one place more than the rest."

rubin shook his head, a chuckle falling from his lips. "a wanderer through and through." his attention was quickly drawn to the man entering the bar. "ah, captain! the usual?"

"please," the decorated man said, quickly taking a seat beside you despite the rest of the bar being available. "would you like another, wanderer?"

you eyed him cautiously, studying what you could see if his face around the black eyepatch, gaze skimming down his elaborate clothing before looking down at your emptied drink. "sure."

"another for your wandering friend, rubin, on my tab, please." your brain swirled, considering the brief information you had been given and wondered how you had never managed to meet this regular during your past visits. "are you just drinking dandelion wine, or something more fun?"

"more fun?" you asked. "what are you drinking, then?"

"well, a death after noon, of course," he stated. "don't tell me you haven't had one."

you blinked at him. "i haven't."

you turned towards rubin when he laughed at the back and forth. "shall i make two, then?"

"definitely," your new drinking buddy said, then gestured to you. "you trust my taste, right?"

you said nothing, but he accepted your silent smile as an agreeance. "captain," you said finally, thinking of how rubin had addressed him. "of?"

the man turned towards you, his elbow planted on the bar and his cheek on a fist. despite his get up, he had a playful smirk across his lips. "you mean, my reputation doesn't precede me? you really are a wanderer. everyone in mondstadt knows my name."

"everyone but me," you corrected. "as i'm currently in mondstadt."

his teeth shone behind his smirking lips before he sat up straight. "well, allow me to introduce myself." he saluted, his arm extending from his side at an angle - a salute you recognized from the guards around the city. "i am jeonghan, the cavalry captain of the knights of favonius."

"ah, the knights," you smiled briefly, before letting your eyes wander as you thought, crossing your arms over the bar. "i don't see much of a cavalry in the city, though."

he let out an amused exhale. "so i have a bit more free time these days."

"i'm sure the acting grand master is jealous of all your free time," you teased. "poor guy, looks like he's staving off a panic attack every time i see him. you should probably help him more."

"so," he sighed, leaning against the bar again. "you know of the acting grand master but not me?"

"jihoon?" you asked. "of course i know of him. he's all anyone ever talks about around here."

jeonghan nodded once, thanking rubin when he placed two drinks before you. "people talk about me, also, you know."

your lips stuck out in a pout. "jeonghan, you said? doesn't ring a bell."

he rolled his eyes and picked up his drink, holding it out for you to cheers against. you giggled, clinking your glass against his before taking a sip. the golden liquid was sweet, but not like the dandelion wine you had grown to love in this region. it had more depth, a subtle bitterness to it, and a refreshing bubble. you stared after the glass when it left your lips, then looked over to find jeonghan grinning at you.

"i see why it's your usual," you said, taking another sip before placing the glass on the bar. "i could drink too many."

"will you?" he asked.

"not tonight," you replied coolly. "i haven't asked sana to put me up at the guild yet, and if i get there too late, i'll get a cot instead of a bed. unless rubin finally wants to come clean about something?"

the bartender laughed. "how many times do i have to tell you? we don't even have rooms to board."

you squinted at him. "i know there's something upstairs. i'll learn your secrets one day, rube."

"i wouldn't be a very good bartender if i didn't know how to keep them."

"so you're in the guild?" jeonghan asked as rubin attended to another patron. "an adventuring wanderer."

you smiled vaguely at him. "i am. i have to pay for my travels somehow."

he shrugged. "there's other ways to make money. probably more profitable, too."

you eyed his teasing smirk. "i'm not sure i know what you're implying."

"as a captain of the knights of favonius, i assure you, i'm implying nothing at all," he said, exhaling sharply and adjusting on his stool. he leaned over towards you before speaking in a quieter tone. "but as jeonghan, i think you know exactly what i'm implying."

you only laughed, recognizing the thinly veiled attempt to worm a secret out of you. "i outgrew those means a long time ago. besides, when mora gets tight, i can always board up with my mother. i like liyue enough."

jeonghan studied you as you drank again. "liyue's home, is it?'

"for her, yes," you said, looking over to him, but you found yourself looking away again when his steely blue gaze met yours. you thought carefully about how much of yourself you were willing to reveal to this stranger, especially considering how important he was in the rule of the city. "she was a wanderer, too, and ended up falling in love with liyue harbor."

jeonghan made note of the way your face softened as you spoke about your mother. "and what about you?"

you met his intent look again, thinking about how his covered eye somehow made him even more intimidating. perhaps that was its purpose. "what about me?"

"what have you fallen in love with?"

a smile crept onto your lips as you processed his question. "oh, archons, what have i not fallen in love with? the smell of the open ocean in inazuma, the breathtaking temples in sumeru - have you ever been to waterfall city?"

jeonghan merely shook his head at you, the corners of his mouth turning upwards as he put his cheek on a fist again, leaning against the bar. "beautiful?"

you exhaled, eyes wide as you thought of the towering falls and the light mist that covered the city, trying to come up with an apt description. "humbling. there's nothing like it."

he watched your expression, head tilting further. "what a wonderful way to describe a place. tell me more."

your gaze went to him, then away briefly, feeling suddenly shy as you noticed his look. "about waterfall city?"

he shrugged a fur covered shoulder, shaking his head lightly. "about anywhere. describe your world, wanderer. i'd like to hear whatever you have to say."

you wondered if the heat that ran through you was because of the alcohol or the man, but you just took another drink and cleared your throat lightly, thinking of more places you had discovered in your travels. you thought of qingce village, one of your favorite places to visit, because the people are kind and welcoming and the fields are so beautiful. you told him about a tea shop owned by an old man - he insisted you call him pops so fiercely that you weren't even sure you had caught his given name - and it was probably the most relaxing cup of tea you ever had.

"it's been a while since i've gone," you sighed. "i think i'm overdue for a chat with pops and his tea."

jeonghan was smiling when you looked at him again. "the tea in liyue is unmatched," he said, reaching for his drink. before taking another sip, he gestured for you to continue.

so you did. you told him about sakura pond, about celestia city, about the volcanic black beaches. you told him liyue had your favorite people, but inazuma had your favorite food. he clicked his tongue at you.

"what about mondstadt? do we have one of your favorites?"

you smiled, genuinely. "sunsets. the night sky is different here than it is anywhere else. i think mondstadt is the closest we can get to the stars without joining the archons."

jeonghan studied you briefly, his blue eye flicking over your face as you finished your drink. "i think that's an apt observation. it seems your eyes are always wide."

"i travel for the views," you exhaled. "i don't plan on missing any."

he thought a second. "have you been to starsnatch cliff?"

your eyes lit up. "not in years," you said, in complete shock that you could have forgotten such a place. you pushed from the bar slightly, turning towards him, and he noticed the flash of a red gem strapped to your right thigh for the first time. "my mother took me there when i was a kid, but i haven't gone since."

"it never gets old," he said, sipping at the end of his drink. "i've yet to see that view and not be in awe."

"i'll go before i leave mondstadt again," you decided.

he looked to you. "when will that be?"

you sighed. "not sure, yet."

he just chuckled. "would you like another drink?"

"oh, no," you said, standing and stretching your spine. "i should make my leave. i don't like sleeping on cots. i just came by to let my ol' pal rube know i was in town again."

jeonghan watched you pull your pack onto your back, grabbing the handle of your sheathed claymore from where it was leaning against the wall next to the bar. "perhaps i'll see you again tomorrow?"

you looked at him, a vague smile on your lips as you strapped your sword back on. "perhaps you will, captain."

"jeonghan," he corrected. "but i don't believe you ever shared your name?"

"that was by design, captain," you said, and he swore he caught a glint in your eye as you bid rubin a farewell and stepped out of the angel's share.

jeonghan spun back around on his stool, immediately looking to rubin. "do you know their name?"

"no, sir," he said, looking at the closed door. "they've never said."

jeonghan's gaze went to the empty glass you had left behind, thinking about your stories, your sword, and the signifier of your vision on your thigh. "fascinating."

you got lucky - sana had a private room for you, and said you were welcome to rent it for your stay. she said not many people were travelling to mondstadt these days, and that more often than not, the adventurer's barracks in headquarters went unused. ever since the fatui had holed up in the grand goth hotel, it had been harder for you to make extended stays in mondstadt, but it seemed that something was telling you to stick around longer than usual. you laid on the hard mattress - a feeling that was more comforting than most, thanks to your continuous travels - and thought of the charming captain that had made a night of questioning you. you wondered if he really had any interest in anything you had to say, or if he had been hoping for details about something pertinent to an investigation.

you packed a lighter bag in the morning, only bringing along the essentials as you set out for your commissions for the day. that afternoon, you wandered around mondstadt and asked questions. questions about the simultaneously well-discussed and mysterious cavalry captain that had listened to your tales of travel, and answers came easier than expected, though they didn't contain all the details you were looking for. that night, you waited up at the angel's share to brag about your newfound knowledge to the captain that never showed, and you did your best to not let that hurt your ego.

the next day, you made a detour on your way back to the city after completing your commissions, stopping by springvale to enjoy a well deserved lunch and catch up with some locals. you sat in the grass with a skewer of grilled meat, watching the windmills of mondstadt steadily spin in the distance as time passed, thinking about how rubin had asked you if you didn't like it here.

you did, you decided. mondstadt felt different than anywhere else you had been. untouched, almost. wilder. freer. despite being born in inazuma, your first memories being in celestia, or your mother being in liyue, mondstadt felt comfortable. felt like a home. you wondered to yourself what that might mean.

sana greeted you happily when you returned much later than you normally did. she told you to go ahead to the guild and come back, filing away your reports and retrieving your rewards. you dropped off your things in your rented room, quickly, practically galloping back down the steps towards the entrance of the city to continue your conversation with the adventurer guilds' mighty receptionist without your sword weighing you down. you crossed your arms on the counter, comfortably lounging as you chatted with her, having always enjoyed her conversations more than most. like rubin, she was a reason mondstadt always felt comfortable.

"fancy meeting you here," an all too familiar voice said, and you pulled your eyes from sana to find jeonghan leaning his side against the counter next to you.

"good evening, cavalry captain!" sana chirped, placing your reward - your room free already removed - on the counter and bowing politely. "can i help you with anything today?"

his icy gaze flickered from your lightly curved lips towards sana. "oh, no, my dear. i'm just coming back from an investigation near springvale"

"interesting," you said, eyeing him. "i was just there and didn't see you."

"i wouldn't be very good at my job if you did, wanderer," he grinned. "knight business, you wouldn't understand. got the assignment yesterday."

"ah," you shifted to your side to face him, making him eye the vision on your thigh. "is that why you never showed? rubin was worried."

he looked you up and down. "rubin was, huh?"

you rolled your eyes and adjusted your posture to face away from his smirk. sana looked between the two of you twice before clearing her throat as quietly as possible, making jeonghan let out a chuckle before he directed his attention to the guild's receptionist.

"how goes holding the post, sana?"

she looked almost frightened when the attention was directed back to her. "good, captain! in fact, one of our most capable adventurers-" she gestured to you, "-just returned from taking care of some of our more difficult commissions - no one else would take them."

jeonghan looked at you. "why did sana have to tell your secret?"

your eyebrows quirked upwards. "what secret?"

"that you're good at this. shouldn't you be bragging?"

a chuckle spilled from your lips, and jeonghan watched you as you looked away. "i'm not the bragging type."

he studied you a moment. "what type are you, then?"

you considered the question, wondering exactly how to answer. what type were you? if not a teller, than surely you must be a shower, but that didn't seem right either. you exhaled. "the quiet type. see you later, sana."

he laughed, pushing off the counter as you tucked your mora into your waist bag, wishing sana a good evening and following you towards the fountain. "you sure talk a lot for being the quiet type."

a smirk landed itself on your lips as he fell into step beside you. "maybe private is a better description."

"that one i can see," jeonghan said, looking over to you. he thought of how you had spent nearly an hour telling him about the best views in teyvat, yet he still didn't know the most basic information about you. "do you share your name with anyone?"

you thought. "my mother."

he scoffed. "anyone else?"

you looked to the sky. "rubin."

"wrong," he retorted. "he doesn't know your name, either."

you laughed, looking over to him as you came up to the fountain, spinning and sitting back on the ledge. "you asked?"

"of course i asked," he said, planting one foot on the ledge beside you and placing his arms on his knee. "i asked other people, too. almost everyone knows you, but they don't know anything about you. bits and pieces, but never the full picture."

you just smiled up at him from your relaxed posture on the concrete. "what's wrong with a little intrigue?"

he just smiled back at you. "nothing. i tend to keep a bit myself. did you know there's a large number of people in this city that were shocked when i said you wield a claymore?"

you hummed, dipping the tips of your fingers into the fountain. "did you know there's a large number of people in this city that consider you the most eligible bachelor in not only mondstadt, but in all of teyvat?"

his lips parted slightly as you spoke. "so you snooped, too."

"i was bored yesterday. it wasn't hard," you exhaled. you flicked a drop of water towards his foot. "jeonghan yoon, the cavalry captain of the knights of favonius since he was only nineteen. who loves wine and whose adopted brother runs the biggest winery in teyvat, yet they're hardly ever seen speaking. who comes from a far off land on a different continent, but has come to love mondstadt like it was his home. who wears an eyepatch but has never told anyone why."

he chuckled at the assessment and pulled his foot off the ledge to sit beside you. "so when do i get to learn about you?"

"i told you about me yesterday," you said.

"you told me about teyvat," he corrected. "and while i was able to infer some things about your character, i still know close to nothing about you."

you thought for a moment, realizing no one had ever noticed how little you truly shared despite always being willing to tell stories. "sometimes it feels like i am teyvat. it's hard to think of things that are just about me."

"you could start with that vision," he said, nodding at the strap across your thigh. you looked down at it, exhaling.

"what's there to tell? you know what it means, and that's more teyvat than me, too."

he leaned back on a hand, looking you up and down in curiosity. "how old were you."

you chewed your cheek. "fourteen. you?"

his lip quirked upwards. "sixteen."

you bumped his shoulder with yours playfully. "beat you."

he laughed. "how'd it happen?"

you paused. "you go first."

he just chuckled and looked away, watching a dog wander past the general store. "another day, then."

"no fun," you sighed, brushing your hands together as you leaned forward. "what about the eyepatch?"

he met your eyes, mouth slanted in a smirk. "another day."

you clicked your tongue. "if you wanna learn about me, you have to be willing to give up some details, too. i value a fair trade."

"then stop asking questions that you know i won't share the answer to." jeonghan noticed the color of the sky, then suddenly pulled a pocket watch out, checking it quickly to confirm that there was enough time and stood. "come with me?"

you stared up at him. "where?"

he grinned, extending a hand to help you to your feet. "you said mondstadt's sunsets were your favorite, correct?"

you generally weren't prone to following mysterious men into back corridors, but jeonghan easily convinced you with no words at all that sneaking around the sight line of the acting grand master was completely normal behavior, sushing you with a grin as you giggled, taking refuge around a corner after the two of you made it up to the second floor of the favonius headquarters. he tugged your hand with his, pulling you into a steep maintenance staircase behind a door.

"this feels like it's against some rules," you said, climbing the stairs behind him.

"nonsense," he said, looking back at you and grinning. "are you suggesting that a knight of favonius would break rules just to impress a mysterious traveler?"

you laughed quietly, wondering if he really meant that he wanted to impress you. "not most, but maybe this one."

he only thought for a split second. "if anyone asks, we're on official knight business."

he opened the door and you found the sky again, beginning to glow orange as the edge of the sun began to hide behind the cliffs. you stared in awe at the way the few fluffy clouds reflected pink and gold, then readjusted your focus when jeonghan spoke again.

"i hope you aren't afraid of heights," he said, walking over to the parapets that surrounded you. "the best view requires a bit of a climb."

you looked up at the tower, and while it wasn't much higher than where you stood, you also recognized that you were well above most of mondstadt already. "you climb up there?"

he paused, studying you. "we don't have to, we can just sit on a merlon-"

"no, we can climb," you said, walking over to where he was and eyeing the small gap between the parapet and the adjacent roof. "hop over?"

he laughed, stepping over the gap and holding a hand out for you. "watch your step."

and though you didn't need it, you accepted the hand anyways, and it stayed on yours as you walked over the roof to the tower, as if making sure you didn't misstep several stories in the air.

"would you like to go first?" he asked. "i'll catch you if you fall."

you rolled your eyes at him, dropping your hand from his grip. "you go first. i want to see where the handholds are."

he just grinned at you. "very well," he said, tugging on the wrists of his fingerless gloves to make sure they were taught against his skin before taking hold of a brick. you watched him as he took foothold after foothold, and he resisted the urge to show off by speedily scaling the wall in favor of making sure you had the chance to see where he gripped. when he reached the opening in the tower, he pulled himself up and spun around, exhaling with a grin as he seated himself at the ledge with his legs dangling above you.

"your turn."

you adjusted your waist bag as you sighed in amused annoyance, spinning it to be behind you and out of your hips' way to climb the wall. it wasn't much - a couple meters, maybe - and you had definitely climbed further, but jeonghan's presence made you slightly nervous. that nervousness, however, just fueled you to prove yourself.

you scaled the wall easily, making jeonghan whistle and jokingly call you some kind of adventurer, and your only hesitation came when his hand was in your face. despite your initial inclination to ignore it, you put your left hand in his, allowing him to help you pull yourself up on the ledge and sit beside him.

"impressive," he commented.

you laughed, brushing off your hands. "you, too."

"c'mon," he said, gesturing his head over his shoulder before making moves to stand. "the view's on the other side."

you sighed, looking over the view of mondstadt shrouded in golden light as he stood and walked to the other ledge. "never a moment of rest with you."

"if you want to miss the sunset, be my guest."

you leaned back on your hands and laughed, pulling your gaze away from the city to look at where jeonghan had seated himself on the other end of the tower, and subsequently the view of the rolling hills beyond him that were glowing golden in the evening sun. you blinked for a second, realizing you hadn't seen the sunset the night before, and quickly got to your feet to join him before you missed this one, too.

he gave you a soft smile when you sat beside him, and you briefly wondered how many he had in his repertoire. the wind was stronger higher, whipping gently through his hair and alleviating any uncomfortable warmth you may have had from exerting yourself on the way up. you watched the dregs of sunlight skip across the grassy hills and the sky turn deep orange and bright pink, feet swinging lightly over the edge of the tower.

"i was fighting with my brother," he said suddenly, causing you to look at him with a start before you realized he was telling you about his vision. there was a slight smile on his face as he looked out on the fields. "hyungwon. it was bad. he already had his - he's a pyro, like you - and we were both young and stupid and just lost our dad. we were sword fighting and it came to me when i needed it. it probably saved my life, honestly."

you blinked at him. "you think he would have killed you?'

he exhaled, leaning back on his hands. "i think if the roles had been reversed, i would have tried to kill him, too. i'm grateful it didn't go that way, though." he coughed abruptly, clearing his throat. "we're on speaking terms, and i do love him as a brother, but i generally avoid him."

you let that thought ruminate as you watched the sun sink, halfway beyond the horizon. "my father was in a gang in inazuma, but my mom ran away when she found out she was pregnant. didn't want to raise a kid in that world, i guess? we ran into him when i got older and he wasn't very understanding." you paused, remembering the detail too well. "they were going to take her vision. that's what they did to traitors. probably take me, too. they weren't expecting me to start setting fires."

jeonghan's gaze was on you as yours was on the horizon. "just a couple of survivors."

you looked over at him, a smirk on your lips. "a couple?"

he laughed waving at your implication, thinking he would have said the same thing in an attempt to fluster you just as you were to him. "like, more than one and less than four."

you only laughed back. "fortune favors the weak, i suppose. the archons saw we needed help and extended a fig branch."

"is that what it was?" he asked, a laugh on his lips. "we were both fighting people. that's hardly an offer of peace."

"look for the deeper meaning, jeonghan. we were fighting for our lives," you pointed out, and he realized it was the first time you had addressed him by his name rather than his title. "i was fighting for family. for freedom. is that not the greatest pursuit of peace?"

he watched you as you pulled your knees to your chest, putting your feet on the edge of the stonework surface you sat on. he studied the way the golden rays lit your skin and made your eyes sparkle. "i suppose so."

you paused in that moment for a long while, and jeonghan allowed the comfortable silence as the two of you watched the sun disappear beyond the cliffs of mondstadt. the sky was turning a deep shade of purple when you told him your name, and jeonghan thought that it was quite possibly the best news he had ever received, but he kept that joy to himself as he confirmed your name, and you rolled your eyes.

"are you gonna answer my other question now?"

he scoffed. "about the eyepatch? is it really that interesting?"

"not any more interesting than my name," you retorted.

"completely untrue," jeonghan insisted. "i've never been so excited to be told a secret, and i get told a lot of secrets."

you eyed his smile warily. "my name may be unknown, but it's no secret."

he sighed and shook his head lightly. "you really wanna know the reason i wear it? it's probably not as dramatic as you're hoping."

"yet you hide it?"

he laughed. "what's wrong with a little intrigue?"

you looked away, recognizing the parrot of your own words. "whatever you say, captain."

"no!" he whined and grabbed your arm, making you start and look at him with big eyes. "you just started calling me jeonghan, don't go back to captain."

you stared at him, only breaking to laugh, dropping your legs over the edge again. "you won't show me what's under the eyepatch, so i thought we weren't on first name basis."

his hand on your bicep was warm and gentle, but his gaze was piercing as he thought it over for a bit longer. you did your best to hold it, but you felt yourself shrinking when he quietly muttered, "go on, then."

it took you a second to register what he meant, and you reached out slowly, fingers hesitating before they brushed upon his cheekbone. jeonghan closed his eyes, resigning to your touch as you gently lifted the eyepatch. his eyes opened again, slowly, and you thought your heart might have skipped a beat.

"like chocolate," you commented, and a smile spread across his lips.

"that's the kindest reaction i've gotten."

your fingers fell upon his temple, brushing down gently as you inspected his singular brown eye. "since birth?"

he nodded, his eyes flicking down to your lips briefly before he spoke. "heterochromia. it's a characteristic of my family."

you studied his face. "not the one here?"

he sighed. "not the one here."

the icy blue of jeonghan's eye had always struck something in you. it made him mysterious. commanding. it felt like he saw more than you despite having one eye covered. but now, you felt warm. you felt his gentleness. there was comfort hidden away behind that black patch, and you told him that you understood why the cavalry captain had chosen to hide the eye he did.

but to you, he was willing to show anything that would keep you around longer, he said.

"why me?" you asked, studying his expression when he looked away. the sun had retreated behind the hills, leaving the sky a deep blue.

jeonghan didn't respond right away, and you wondered if he himself even knew the answer. "we're birds of a feather, you and i."

you looked out to the view again, watching the subtle movements of the wild hills. "did you travel much before you came here?"

"it was all i knew," he told you. "i was thirteen when my father left me here."

your neck snapped, your eyes on his profile when he leaned back on his hands. "left you?"

he almost laughed, a smile on his lips when his eyes met yours. "i was slowing him down, i suppose. hyungwon's father found me and took me in."

"so you stayed?"

"i didn't always want to," he assured you. "i had the itch to leave for years. as soon as i was able, i always told myself." he paused, eyes dropping. "then father died. then hyungwon turned down his position with the knights. and i was their second choice."

you pursed your lips. "you stayed for a job."

he laughed. "it's not that simple."

you smiled at him, enjoying the warmth of his eyes on yours as the sky cooled. "are you sure we're birds of a feather?"

"listen," he said, getting off his hands and brushing them off on his thighs. "i accepted the job so that i could set the story straight. i didn't want to run from the people that believed that hyungwon tried to kill me to avenge our father."

you studied him. "i'm sorry."

"don't be," he said, nudging your shoulder. "i was still planning on leaving, but then i fell in love."

you looked away, trying to sort out the way your stomach flipped. "are they still around?"

"not with a person," he laughed, then nodded towards the now dark hills. "with the views. besides, i get free reign whenever i leave for missions. i have fun adventuring, and come home to the best sunsets in teyvat. there are worse places to call home."

your eyes scanned the horizon, remembering the brilliant rays of sun you had just seen skip across it. "that is tempting."

"how tempting?" he asked.

you thought on that for a moment. "almost as much as a death after noon right now."

jeonghan laughed, slightly proud that he had hooked you on his favorite drink. "shall we go see rubin, then?"

you hummed, smiling at the captain. "as long as i don't have to sit alone again."

"that's a promise," he told you as he stood, holding out a hand that you took without hesitation, though he withheld his intention to make sure you were never alone again.

#hehe i came up with a whole thing #this was basically me wanting to write kaeya fanfic but knowing i would wanna post it so writing it about jeonghan instead #caratwritersclub #jeonghan scenarios #jeonghan imagines #jeonghan fluff #seventeen fluff #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #hannie #genshin impact au #jeonghan is kaeya and im just right #i wrote dis

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alphabravocharliedelta · 3 years

Text

Therefore I Am | Russell Adler x Bell!Reader II

Series: Call of Duty: Black Ops Cold War

Therefore I Am | Russell Adler x Bell!Reader

Chapter II

Word Count: 3400+

[Chapter I] [Chapter III]

Summary: [Y/N] “Bell” [L/N] was content with dying. Shot by the person whom they admired and left to die, the world was now left in the hands of the team they once thought as family. However, it seems that fate had other plans in mind…

Content Warning: mature content, gore, vulgar language, blood, injuries

Notes: Thank you so much for your comments on the previous chapters! I can’t respond to them but reading them is very heartwarming. This chapter’s a bit short, and if your wondering as to why I chose a certain character over the other, it’s just of preference. Besides, they need more appreciation :)��

[Y/N] “Bell” [L/N]

July, 1983

North-West, Soviet Union

The weeks passed without anything new. The weeks eventually turned to a month.

It was during July 1983 that everything changed.

4th of July, actually.

Even if rations were running low, you all managed to pull through eating crackers and pulling eggs from nests. There were a few starving nights, but efforts would often be rewarded through some animal caught in one of the traps.

Today, everything started off as normal. It was usually dark out when you woke up, so you had the daily program of watching the sun rise as you did laps. You engaged in your daily routine of exercise, before spending some time alone at the makeshift practice range. Majority of the time you lay on the ground, staring at the bluish white sky above while trying to wind down from your work out. The snow has long stopped, humidity starting to move in.

Afterwards you walked around the facility until Vadim requested you to check the animal traps on the west side of the base. No strange activity like usual, and the traps were either bare or activated, but with nothing inside. The wildlife around were beginning to play it safe and smart— The bait was always missing now. You covered them with a bunch of twigs and old leaves, making sure it was obvious enough for the group to notice.

You returned to see Artyom working on his new weapon: a bow. He managed to find some old logs previously, in which he spent the next few weeks hacking at it and carving it into shape. It was nearly finished now.

"Nice craftmanship," you remark. The bow was fairly nice and sleek, a light yellowish tan with brown streaks. It was a bit shiny too, which you could only assume he polished with some oil.

"I used to help do woodwork with my wife before the war started," Artyom describes. "Making tables and furniture."

“That so?”

“Yeah. Good business. Handcrafted and original design, you won’t find it elsewhere.”

Vadim strides in mid-conversation, holding a large hare by the ears. A rifle hung over his shoulder. "Got a big one!" he exclaims proudly.

If there was one thing about the seasons changing, at least it brought some more animals around. Even if the animals were getting smarter, there would be at least one unfortunate soul that would be caught.

Vadim headed over to the kitchen area to prepare it for cooking. You watched Artyom test the strength of his bow by pulling the string back, and making any adjustments.

Having nothing else to do, went over to the computer that sat in the corner of the room. It was dingy and yellowing with age already, most likely one of the earlier models that was released. It was surprising to learn that it was still connected to the database, all info easily accessible to you with just a tap of a few keys. The password was no problem for you, as some forgetful person decided to write an obvious hint on a yellow post-it.

The terminal mainly consisted of daily updates, a few logs written by Anton himself. The logs went all the way back, more than a year ago. It was a tad boring, as it mainly talked about the same topic: mission reports, suspicious activity, intercepted communications. Reading through it only reminded you of the time you went to Ukraine with Woods, only to discover about Operation Greenlight. Then it went all downhill from there.

The recorded conversation between Black and Hudson was here as well. Hearing how easily they spoke about it, despite literally placing bombs around Europe as a defensive mechanism was astonishing. You skimmed through other calls, much of them not really catching your attention.

If there was one thing that you didn’t like about this lifestyle currently, it was the days were mundane. You couldn’t even comprehend that you lived at an abandoned base for two years. Even if you wanted to take a joy ride around, any modes of transportation were destroyed when the base was attacked, and there was no way of salvaging any parts.

0000

Night time eventually came after spending your time breezing through the database. Dinner was small, and it would probably be another day or two before any of you could eat again in order to ration. You stared at the ceiling of your white room, following the grooves with your eyes until the lights were shut off. Diverting your attention elsewhere, you started listening to the noise of water dripping from outside the hallway and counted each drop, hoping to lull yourself to sleep.

You were about to hit the two-hundred mark but a loud crash made you lose count.

Shooting up from bed, you sat in the darkness waiting for any other noise to follow up.

It’s probably nothing.

That's what you told yourself, and yet there was an unsettling feeling that you couldn't shake. Your instincts were telling you to get off your ass and investigate it. But you were out in the middle of nowhere at an old, barely operable military base with four Soviets. No one came then, so what are the chances they would come now?

For fucks sake...!

You stood up, running your hand against the wall. You felt around until you found your knife and flashlight. Flicking it on, a bright beam came from the end of it, temporarily blinding you.

Letting your eyes adjust, you decided against getting suited up and left the room. The beams of your flashlight stretched until the end of the highway, dust particles floating around. Whatever made the noise wasn't nearby. If it was an animal, and you highly doubted it, it would have left by now.

Rounding the corner there was no one, and the walk to the meeting hall was dead silent. Mikhail and them must have heard the noise as well unless they were heavy sleepers. So where were they?

You went to flick on the lights, only to remember that it was past eleven. Everything else was running fine.

"Guys?" you called out in a hushed tone.

Hearing no response, you didn't linger any longer than you needed to. Shining the light into every passing room didn't reveal anything either, and everyone else had yet to make their entrance. It was probably safe to assume that they were well asleep by now and slept through the noise. But now that you were up, you couldn't fall asleep easily without knowing what caused the noise.

The base was rather big, and would take more than three hours to go through every room. Storage, cafeteria, the main terminal…

You were about to call the quits until you crashed into someone as you turned the corner. The flashlight fell to the floor, and you dived to get it.

“Fucking bastard–”

“Vadim?”

“Quiet!”

Vadim grabs your shoulders, shuffling you back into the direction you came from. You aimed your flashlight at him, and saw that he was clutching at his side, blood seeping through his fingers. He leaned against the wall, trying to keep himself up but struggling to do so.

“Shit, what happened?!”

Unable to stand up any longer, he slipped onto the floor with his back to the wall before he could answer your question. In a rush, you set the flashlight down, ripped off the bottom part of your shirt and placed it over his wound while applying pressure. The warmth of blood quickly seeped through; it was deep. It was only then that you realized that he had way more lacerations than you initially thought: one in the shoulder, leg, and arm. How he even managed to get away, you didn’t even know.

"They came back to clean up their mess," Vadim croaks. You looked up at him and already saw his eyes were beginning to lose the life in them. He already lost too much blood. "They, they got Artyom… We tried to get to the escape route, but they cut us off... I don’t even know what Mikhail was even thinking–"

The sound of distant footsteps echoed from down the corridor.

Vadim grabs your arm. “You need to go.”

Uncertainty raced through your mind. The footsteps were getting closer. “I can’t just–”

“You need to go!” he repeats, mustering up any strength to push you away. “Don’t waste your time on me!”

You gulped, seeing the desperation on his face. He was clinging to life, using his final bated breaths to tell you this, and in the end, there was nothing else left for you to do.

“Thank you... for everything.”

Taking a final look at Vadim, you decided to follow his wishes, and left him. You could hear him cock back a pistol behind you, yelling cuss words and calling out to the intruders.

It was probably best to better arm yourself with something other than a knife, so you made your way to the armory. Though it was quite the distance, you luckily didn't encounter anyone on the way there. The sounds of gunfire would echo out occasionally, and you hoped that everyone was alright.

Before you could turn the corner of the hallway leading to the armory, something flashed just right at the edge of your peripherals. Glancing, you saw a tiny red dot dancing along the floor and walls.

Shit!

You flicked off your flashlight.

There were two of them.

To make things worse, they weren't talking. No communication between them whatsoever. It was dead quiet and you could hear your heart beating in your ears. Whoever they were, they were professionals. Or maybe they were dumb. You hoped it was the latter.

Without a weapon, you had no chance of winning. Sure, you had a knife, but against two? It was possible if they were slow to respond, though you highly doubted it. You had to separate them.

Tracing back your steps you decided to head to the control room.

It was circular in shape. The terminals inside followed the shape of the room, curving around the center floor. They were on standby, light brown next blinking repeatedly, just waiting for a password.

Keeping a low profile, you searched around for something distracting. There was a little panel on the wall, and on it was a giant red button. A glass pane covered it.

Well damn.

Biting your lip, you winded up your fist and twisted your body. You took a deep breath before letting your waist unwind itself. Your knuckles met the glass, the shards digging into your skin as the button sunk onto itself.

"Fuck!" you couldn't help but yell, pulling your hand out as red began to trail down your arm.

Sirens began to go off, lights beginning to flash. The screens around you began to blink rapidly with the words "emergency" in Russian. An irritable sound of high pitched wailing came from above as bright neon red covered the room.

While things weren't going to plan, at least their attention was drawn to you instead of Mikhail, Artyom, and Anton.

As a matter of fact, where were they?

You didn’t even have time to think as a sudden spray of bullets came, shattering the glass windows. Ducking for cover, your breath hitched as you heard the door get kicked open.

With the loud siren masking their footsteps, and only a knife to your name, you were trapped.

Taking a peep around the corner, you could see two armed large figures situating themselves deeper in the room, parting and circling around the terminals. You couldn't make out their faces very well.

At least there were two– you could handle them. Maybe take one as a body shield, threaten to cut their throat.

There was a faint sheen of red on your left, and you found a pair of boots right next to your hand. Before they could even react, you sprung up violently and threw yourself at them.

You flipped the knife in your hand, making sure it was pointed downward.

Using every ounce of your strength in the attempt to make your knife plunge into the intruder's chest, and they in turn tried their best to prevent you from doing so.

Your grip on the handle was incredibly tight, to a point you were beginning to feel light headed and your chest beginning to constrict as the scar you bear stretched out. You could tell that they were stronger than you in terms of strength, so you needed to get this over with quickly.

Just when you were about to push your weight onto the knife, you saw it.

The siren lights momentarily illuminated their face, and you felt all feeling leave your body. You forgot to breathe, and your grip lessened on the handle. This couldn’t be happening. It’s been two years.

But there was no mistaking it. Those piercing grey-bluish eyes belong to someone all too familiar.

Lazar.

Eleazar Azoulay.

“Bell?” he whispered in disbelief, and his grip on you lessened significantly. You couldn’t see his expression, but his voice was enough. It was him.

You choked up as he said your name. Your nickname almost sounded foreign. Lazar must have seen your face at the same time you saw his.

Before you could respond, something blunt and heavy hit you square on your temple, knocking you off. Alarms were ringing inside your head, telling you to run as far as possible. You could already hear that man's voice at the depths of your mind.

"Woods, wait!" you heard Lazar cry out in warning.

You didn't waste a second getting back on your feet, diving behind a control panel as a torrent of bullets rained on the spot you were at just mere seconds ago.

You couldn't stop yourself from hyperventilating, and your hands began shaking. Balling them into a fist, you punched the ground as fear began to take over you. Fuck!

Somehow, you managed to get a good grip on your knife, holding it with your fingertips before chucking it around the corner from your hiding spot. You heard it collide with something metallic, and you took the opportunity to dash towards the door.

Bullets trailed right behind you, one even grazing your shoulder just as you made it out. You ran down the hall, trying to remember where the exit was. The only advantage you had was the lack of lighting, and your knowledge of the facility's layout, and yet you failed to clear your mind.

After a few tight turns, you tackled the emergency exit door open. You didn't stop for a moment, continuing to run off into the forest that was located on top of a small hill. The snow left indents of your shoes as you rushed to get away, but there was no time to spare to cover them.

Just what were you supposed to do in a situation like this?

Hiding behind a tree, it took a bit for your body to cooperate. Your thoughts were racing at an uncontrollable rate.

You always thought the first emotion you would feel was anger if you somehow encountered your former team again. You ran the scenarios through your head, thinking of every possible outcome, but this seemed to be the most unlikely route to have taken.

Rather than anger, you were scared.

What would they do to you when they found you? You were supposed to be dead. Were you going to kill them? No, you couldn't do that…

Right?

In the end, you wanted to shut your eyes, cover your ears, and wish everything else away. You had nothing to defend yourself, and you couldn't bring yourself to surrender.

You couldn't do anything.

Your military training felt useless in this scenario, and your mind was slowly turning against you. The voices sounded like they were getting closer, but you couldn't tell if they were auditory hallucinations or the genuine voices of the people you had cared for.

Cold wind nipped at the open wound on your forehead, and you could feel the trail of blood that ran down your face drying up.

The sound of a branch breaking went off nearby.

Painfully, you held your breath, and tried to concentrate your thoughts on your surroundings. You forced your hand to stop shaking by grasping your wrist. You listened to everything that could exist, whether it be the cold breeze blowing through, or the slightest movement of a leaf.

Surely enough, you heard the sound of something heavy closing itself onto your position. It was on your right.

Taking a peek from the corner of your eye, you could see a red laser pointing at the ground near you, before it disappeared. The presence was right there.

They knew where you were.

Preparing yourself, you took a silent deep breath, and pulled your legs closer. The sound of a single bell chime went off in your head. You had to be doing something right.

Counting down their footsteps, they were just a pace away.

You bolted out from behind the tree, tackling the person closest to you. They swore in surprise as you both rolled down a short distance.

It was Adler.

A sudden rage overtook you.

The man behind everything, the one who made these voices in your head.

You couldn't see his eyes behind the fucking glasses. Why did he always wear those fucking shades?

You were frustrated. You could have helped them. You could have told them about Duga, but you told them about Solovetsky instead. Your loyalty was to the US at that point, their morals and vision of the greater good heavily instilled on you. It may have been fake, but you eventually sympathized with it. You were even part of the team that prevented the nukes, and this was the "thanks" you get?

“We’ve got a job to do.”

Something inside you snapped, your fear turning into something incomprehensible. You weren’t mad or frightened; it felt like an unearthly force had taken control of your body, and you were just watching it play out in front of your eyes.

Kill him.

Wresting the gun away from him, you tossed it away before positioning yourself on top, making sure he couldn't get up. With your left hand you grabbed his collar. As for your right fist, you didn't hesitate to bring down your fist onto him.

His aviators broke right at the bridge of his nose.

"Bell-"

You didn't give him a second to speak. Pulling back your fist, you delivered another punch. Adler had an iron grip on your left wrist, trying to pry it away, but you didn't budge.

“The red door.”

Where was it?

"The CIA reinvented you, Bell."

"Bell, stop!"

Where was the damn door?

“Why?!” you screamed, tugging Adler at the collar with both hands. Your throat felt raw and dry as emotions began to well up, your thoughts becoming incoherent the longer you stared at his bloody face. “You left me!”

Adler fully understood the words you spoke, and it tugged at his heartstrings.

Your voice cracked as you cried, and tears were running down your face. You truly did think you had a connection with him, working side by side with a man that had your back in the most dire of situations. He fully expected this kind of reunion, but he had long convinced himself that you had actually died on the cliffside. Adler couldn’t even bring himself to fight back against you, agony written all over your face as you confronted him. He took the punches, wishing that it would at least give you some solace.

You were peeled off of him by Woods, whose arms were wrapped around your neck and waist, restricting your movement. You flailed your legs around, just trying to hit something, anything. But Woods' hold on you was too strong, and moving too much would choke yourself unconscious. Instead, you watched as Adler helped himself upward, wiping the blood from his nose away.

Adler rolled his neck a couple of times, and gave up on wiping away the blood on his face. He spat out some substance onto the ground as he reached for the radio, an audible click coming from it. "Sims, get ready. We're heading to exfil."

You could sense him looking at you, but you were unable to decipher his visage amidst the darkness.

"We secured the package."

#russell adler #russell adler x reader #russell adler x bell #cod black ops cold war #black ops cold war #call of duty #bo:cw #text #bell #call of duty x reader #call of duty imagine #fanfic #abcd briefing

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innittowinit · 3 years

Text

Run Rabbit Run (1/3)

Summary:

When Assassin Technoblade receives an offer he can't refuse, to kill the king, he starts to live a double life as a knight inside the castle walls.

Unexpected to him, he meets a pair of troublesome brothers, a skilled gardener and a father figure in the process, Can he go through with it this time?

AO3

Arriving at the castle gates

The objective was simple: infiltrate the palace, earn the king’s trust, kill him and then get the hell out of there. Really, for a skilled assassin, such as Technoblade, it should have been easy; he’d been given a couple months to work on getting this target but he had been confident he’d have it done in less than a week.

Usually, he would never accept offers to assassinate royalty but he had been down on funds and his client had offered him so much gold. You see, most of the time the work it took to not get caught for these kinds of jobs just outweighed the reward but this person must have really had some vendetta against the King as, when Techno had initially declined, he had quadrupled the amount of gold he would get as an award.

In today’s economy? He was not in any position to be declining that kind of offer.

And so, confident that he was being paid fairly for his work, he began working under the King - arguably one of the biggest mistakes of his lifetime.

---

“There’s a new guard coming in today” A scruffy looking boy, dressed in a long white apron had chirped as he stacked plates and glasses full of expensive looking cuisine and beverages onto a tray for the butler to carry.

“Knight, Tommy” The butler corrected as he repositioned some of the plates so they wouldn’t fall “And I don’t know why you care so much, Phil brings in new Knights all the time”

“Ugh!” Tommy, the boy in the apron, had groaned as he dug his hand into the silverware drawer, trying to fish out some that he would need to polish the least, “Come on, Wil! Poor guy is probably terrified, he probably thinks Phil will like...accuse him of treason or something if he makes any sort of mistake, we should welcome him!”

“Okay Okay” Sighing, Wilbur picked up the tray, grabbing the silverware for Tommy once he decided he was taking too long, “We’ll go say hi to him when he gets here, for now, just do your job and cook the food”

With that, the conversation seemed to be over, Wil ruffling the cook’s already messy hair and leaving to take the tray to whatever room the King was in.

---

Applying for the role of Knight had all been a part of his plan, having an excuse to be carrying a weapon around with him was far far better than having to try and hide it and come up with excuses whenever someone found one. Part of being an assassin was being able to plan far far in advance.

Walking up to the Palace, it was obvious that this was a wealthy kingdom, not at all like where he had been born. In a way, the fact that he’d be killing someone rich helped with the guilt. Jealousy could always be more powerful than guilt. Creamish grey pillars stood tall on either side of the actual castle portion of the palace, the entire thing being surrounded in a tall stone wall that looked as if it was more for aesthetics than for use in an actual battle. In Techno’s experienced opinion, it didn’t look like it had been used at all for the original intended purpose, in fact it looked as if it had been scrubbed clean by the servants after every storm to keep it looking pristine.

Somebody must have been watching him approach since as soon as he got to the moat a large drawbridge was lowered for him to walk across and into the safety of the walls.

“New guy!” Whipping his head around to the source of the sound, he spotted two men dressed in different uniforms, They were both taller than he was however the blonde boy was quite clearly younger, having more boyish features on his face.

The pair quickly jogged over to him, both grinning like idiots as they introduced themselves, “I’m Wilbur and this is Tommy!” The taller of the two spoke “He’s my younger brother, the king took us in to work for him when we were living on the streets so please don’t be nervous, he’s extremely kind and will definitely want you to see this as your new home”

Techno had to keep himself from chuckling, to him this was nothing more than a workplace, somewhere he could plant his seeds and then strike when nobody was looking, still though, he needed to keep himself as unremarkable as possible in order for his plan to work.

“Quiet type huh? That’s fine, I’m sure the King would still like to meet you first though so just follow us” Wilbur hummed as he spun around on the balls of his feet, leading Tommy and Techno towards the main building. It was a little morbid how they didn’t realise they were inviting death into their home, the thought of the pain he would inevitably bring these people always seemed to upset him so he tried his best to push that fact away as far as he could.

This was his job, he was being paid. The blood wouldn’t be on his hands, as always it would be on his client’s.

Tommy had squirmed his way between the two older men as they walked through the gardens, he had to admit the rose bushes that lined the royal stone brick path looked beautiful, especially during this time of year, it was so warm and bright.

“Hi Tubbo!” Tommy had called out to a boy with brown hair who was tending to some purple aster’s, the boy (who he assumed was this Tubbo guy) gave an enthusiastic wave back, his smile was incredibly welcoming and friendly. Needless to say, it was obvious the two boys were friends, but he also had a little bit of an edginess to him, he cut off the dead flowers with so much precision that Techno was half expecting him to be a second assassin here who was just being careless about hiding their skill with weapons. One look at that stupid smile made it very clear that he was in fact not an assassin though, instead he just seemed to be very skilled in his craft.

“That boy over there?” Wilbur chuckled, seemingly noticing Techno staring “That’s Tubbo, Tommy’s best friend, they met when we first moved in here and they’ve been pretty inseparable ever since. Honestly, if you hadn’t been moving in today he’d probably have made some excuse to come down to the garden, probably to ask Tubbo for fresh vegetables or something”

Nodding silently, Techno willingly gathered information on the dynamics of this strange little family, information was truly the most powerful weapon and knowing how to manipulate them if he’d ever need to do so, would be a very important life skill.

A man clad in shimmering Iron armour pulled a rope as Wilbur informed him that they needed to be let back inside, a few seconds later a low bell rang and the large wooden doors slowly began to open. Really, the interior had been just as expected, grandiose and extravagant, clearly owned by a man who had far too much money than he knew how to manage. Suddenly Techno felt a little less bad about ruining their family, sure, it was entirely fueled by jealousy but still it felt rather disgusting to know that he had to kill in order to feed himself whereas some people could live a life as ravish as this, without even making a dent in the wallet.

“It’s… big”

Clearing his throat, to try and break up some of the silence, the piglin heard his voice reverb around the high walls. This hall would surely be good for playing music, the ambiance would definitely make the worst of pianists sound like Mozart.

“Yeah, I was a bit overwhelmed at first too.. Isn’t it pretty?” Wilbur sighed, placing a hand on Techno's shoulder as he let a grace smile dust his lips, “It’s really inspiring to think of the Artists that would have worked here”

“Oh my GOD” Tommy groaned, grabbing them both by the arm and starting to hop up the white marble staircase in the centre of the room. “We already have one Wilbur. Don’t encourage him, New Guy!”

After being dragged the rest of the way around the palace, they eventually ended up standing in front of a large wooden door with golden accents, spelling out things that Techno couldn’t read. He had to admit, it would be nice to live with so much gold, but throughout his life he’d learnt to suppress all his Piglin urges in order to not be deemed sub-human (even if he technically wasn't even a human.)

For now he could live with the gold he earned by working hard and doing his job.

On the subject of his job, Tommy had knocked a few times and then immediately opened the door, causing Techno to cringe beyond belief. Seriously, who knocks without waiting? And to the King no less.

“Oh? ‘Ey mates”

With Blonde, wispy hair that reached his shoulders, and dressed a royal suit of green, a man spun around in a comically large desk chair to face them. He had a golden crown placed atop his head with a few different coloured gems embedded into it, it was magnificent and every instinct in his body was telling him to pounce, pounce, POUNCE.

He hated the common misconception of Piglin’s being animalistic brutes who were nothing more than crooks but clearly this man thought more than that. He had only just met Techno and he hadn’t even cared to hide his Gold before allowing a piglin into his home. In a way, he was conflicted. Once King Philza was gone, he could take that crown for himself and bask in it’s golden glory but then again… this man had been one of the few people who trusted him. Sure, the trust was misplaced, Techno was planning his death of course, but it was nice to not be labeled as a criminal because of his species for once.

Sure, Technoblade was a renowned assassin but he was an assassin because no other jobs would hire a piglin, there was quite literally nothing else he could do to make an income. Plus, he was strong and he felt less sympathy for his victims than most would. He supposed that was just one of the perks that came with growing up in the nether, you were always desensitised to death.

“It’s nice to meet you!”

The King got up out of his chair, walked towards Techno and...bowed? Needless to say he was a little taken aback.

“I sincerely hope you enjoy your time with us here in Minecraftia, we’re a small Kingdom but I’m sure both Wilbur, Tommy and any of my other staff members would be thrilled to help you get settled. Will you two show him to where he’s going to be staying? I’m sure he’s exhausted from traveling so far”

Was this really a nice king? Why had he got the assassination request? This man was so gentle to bow to his Knight, who hadn’t even been knighted yet, and somehow someone hated him so much to pay for his death.

Shrugging it off, Techno decided it wasn’t his problem. After all, the blood was never on his hands.

#fanfiction #technoblade #wilbur soot #tommyinnit #philza #au #sbi #sleepy bois inc

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double-daredevil · 4 years

Text

folklore ; chapter one

din djarin x reader (no y/n)

words: 6.2k

rating: T for swearing i guess. its a slow burn there isnt anything sexii yet lol

themes: slow burn (like y’all its so SLOW lol), eventual angst, no Y/N, eventual smut, eventual EVERYTHING this is like the establishing shot of a movie its gonna be a FIC lmfao. dont get attached the end is already planned.

notes: set before the tv series. canon doesn’t exist anymore. i make the rules here pals. yes it is named after the tswift album so that gives you some fuckin HINTS

Accident.

Pretty much everything that happened to you happened by accident, but you weren't one to complain. Without much control over your life for your adolescent years, seeing as you were raised as an Imperial trooper and just followed orders, you happily let yourself float along in life whichever way the forces led you.

That doesn't mean you don't have, say, a moral guideline.

It's difficult to explain to people once they get to know you better and eventually squeeze out of you that yes, you were trained Imperial. Details are not awarded to most people, in fact— you’re not sure anyone except one of your commanding officers in the rebellion knew that you were a clone.

You have spent countless hours trying to transition from regret to simply shame. After all, how is it your fault you did what you were told? If you didn’t, you would have been executed. Tossed to the trash like a faulty toy. The greatest decision in your life was the first decision you, personally, got to make— to run. It took you a few years to plan the scheme, but you defected successfully. Your moral issues were simply too strong to subvert, and you had to leave. So you did. That's all. You don't like to talk about it much.

After you mustered up some vengeance by joining the rebellion, you had to find a living once the major fighting died down for a while. With your particular skills— too deadly to be a simple security guard, or any occupation that doesn't involve tactical warfare, you settled on hoarding money through bounties. Not quite professed in the field of bounty hunting, you would latch on to more experienced hunters and offer to split rewards 20-80 for your help. The meager money filled your pocket enough for food and lodging while you learned the ways of the trade and, subsequently, your new way of life.

That's how you met your first Mandalorian.

A mutual acquaintance from the Guild had a heavy quarry, a difficult one that he had trouble passing off. Too complex and detailed for just you, your acquaintance told you that when he found a suitable hunter to take the lead, he'd hail you to tag along. A week after the quarry was first put on the table, a renowned bounty hunter— this Mandalorian, rolled into town to collect the tracking fob. Part of the agreement was to take you along. The Mandalorian agreed. A brief encounter mediated by your mutual acquaintance and you were following the beskar-clad hunter to his ship, which you’ve come to know as the Razor Crest. A dingy, huge hunk of metal that could use a good list of upgrades, but you quickly grew accustomed to the flying garbage can.

And somehow, after that singular bounty hunt, where you actually got to assist in the capture and the shoving of the unruly quarry into the carbonite, Mando offered you constant refuge aboard his ship in return for some pay and help on his harder bounties. That conversation, so far, has been the longest exchange of words between you and him, and it only lasted maybe five minutes. That’s all. You’re not one that aches for human interaction, having been commanded all your life by others, so you almost welcome the silence.

Almost.

—

Officially, you have been a part of Mando’s crew for nearing six months.

You hear metal clanging against metal, and you glance over your shoulder to see him climbing down from the cockpit. “Are we headed to the next quarry?” You ask.

“Yes,” comes through the vocoder. “Carajam.”

“Oh lovely,” you say, voice dripping with sarcasm as you focus on polishing the trigger of the blaster in your hands. “Another desert planet in the Outer Rim.”

“Our favorite,” Mando deadpans as he walks over, sitting across from you at the janky table.

Once you were an official employee of his, you spent your first few payday collections on your own blasters. In all honesty, weapons never made you nervous, as you grew up in a space station that was literally just a giant weapon, but owning your own seemed… different. Blasters are weapons made just to kill, and you are allowed to have that power again. But, anyway, most of your money goes to savings so you can buy a house to retire to one day. One day.

The Mandalorian rolls his shoulders back to adjust his cape out of the way of his hands as he starts to dismantle the blaster that’s usually holstered at his hip. Piece by piece, he sets his blaster on the table like a new jigsaw puzzle, and you’ve just finished polishing the little blaster you’ve decided to keep stashed in your boot.

“How long until we arrive?” You ask.

His visor is focused downwards, at the metal pieces on the table, his right gloved hand hovering over the pieces like an excited child in a candy shop trying to pick his favorite one. “Not long,” he replies, picking up the barrel and beginning to wipe it clean with a cloth. “We will arrive once it becomes night on the planet. Cooler temps.”

You nod, letting out an appreciative sigh. That meant you had a night’s rest before the hunt began. As he finished up with the barrel of his blaster, you removed your longer, daily use blaster and began dismantling. You two stay like that, at a dimly lit table cleaning the blasters, until the ship notified that it was about to drop out of hyperdrive.

Mando quickly reassembled his blaster, slipping the completed gun back into its holster as he stood and hustles over to the cockpit. Following suit, you dusted off any last specs of dirt on yours and planted your feet firmly against the floor, as the ship dropped out of its easy glide through the stars and into the gravity pull of Carajam. The Razor Crest isn’t the smoothest rig, but you’re still very appreciative. And, you like to think you have good balance, so it’s not a hard task to stay stable.

You want to say that Mando is a good pilot, and you really think he is, but you can’t help but miss the sheer amount of credits that the Empire was able to spend on simple luxuries to make their lives easier, like enhanced stabilization in and out of hyperdrive, cleaner hyperdrives, even, and—

The Razor Crest lands and you shake those dark thoughts out of your head, reassembling your blaster but with clearly less finesse than Mando. Stars, are weapons actually part of his religion, or was that a joke as well? It’s quite the challenge to pick up on the subtleties of somebody who wears intense armor literally every waking moment, but you’ve grown accustomed (more or less) to the separate circles of things that Mando talks about. Those circles are: one, things he says and means, two, things he says as a joke, and three, the gray, shadowy area where those two circles meet and you’re still deciphering what brief conversations and quick remarks belong there.

As the ship starts to rest, expelling various airs and sighs itself as the sheer weight settles on the landing gear, you clear off the table and slip your smaller blaster back into your boot, and your other into your holster that’s banded to your right thigh. The Mandalorian comes down the cockpit ladder soon enough and goes to stand at the main ship door. You hop up from your seat and stand next to him, as he punches something into the control pad on the archway and the large door hisses and starts to lower. The first glimpse of the planet you get is the peak of the spectacular night sky, and eventually the ramp meets the sand on the ground and you see it all. Mando struts down the ramp to go and meet the landing dock manager and pay for the spot here in this spaceport Danan Karr, but you wait aboard still, leaning against the open doorway and gazing out into the night. Planets are always easier for you at night, as they were calmer— at least, those that don’t have an avid nightlife. A few that you and Mando have stopped at have been busier in the dark hours than the light, but it was always fitting.

The breeze of the desert planet comes sifting around you, caressing your cheeks with warm air and particles of sand, but you don’t mind. Raised in space, you have an affinity for the ground and real, non-recycled air. Although it’s never any trouble for you to stay inside a ship for however long, there is always something alluring about fresh air. Plus, this planet in the Outer Rim isn’t exactly prime vacationing, so there is nearly no light pollution. It was almost hard to wrench your eyes away from the bright stars speckling the dark blanket of the sky.

You almost don’t notice when Mando comes walking back up the ramp, too busy basking in the breeze to notice the beskar-clad hunter. He stands at the top of the ramp, slightly in front of you, for a good few seconds as you look straight over his head.

“Hey,” he calls for your attention, and you look down at his face. Or, well, the specific area in the T of his visor where you’re pretty sure his eyes are. He tilts his helmet to the side and you know he’s begun to worry about you.

So you flash him a smile. “I just love the air here,” you say, and turn around to step back inside the ship. Mando walks the rest of the way up the ramp and inside, pressing a button to raise the ramp.

“Rest tonight,” he starts. “Tomorrow we go on the hunt.”

“Yes, sir,” you reply, going back to sit at the janky table to clean one more blaster before retreating to your bunk.

The Mandalorian sits at the table as well, after having taken his ambam rifle out of storage for a quick clean. In silence you two work on your respective blasters, caring for them as they are just as important to the job as the tracking fob. Perhaps an hour or so went by, and as you were putting your blaster back together piece by piece, the comfortable silence was broken. But this time— not by you.

“What did you say about the air?”

You look up from your blaster and see that Mando isn’t looking at you, but still at his rifle. The fact that he’s trying to start casual conversation accidentally makes a smile appear on your face. You quickly look back down at your blaster, but your smile still remains.

“I said that I loved it,” you reply. “Because the air here is very fresh. Even though there’s like, no trees, there’s almost no people. No pollution.”

He hums in understanding and continues cleaning.

Back to the comfortable silence.

—

The Razor Crest looks large from the outside, but it’s pretty cramped inside. The majority of its bulk is for it’s engines and practical components— hyperdrive, fuel tanks, cooling systems and whatnot. It was once a gunship, and that fact does put you on edge. Ships like this used to transport troops and drop them in combat. So, there is a large portion of the ship’s cargo bay that remains unused, as Mando doesn’t usually transport large quarries. The living space, or at least that’s what you’ve called it in your head, consists of an open area with a small but sturdy table, a few stools to sit on, and various crates that contain meal rations and tools and various trinkets. You’re almost one hundred percent sure that this ship was never meant to be lived in. You estimate that maybe four or five people could stay on the ship before everyone felt claustrophobic.

There used to be only one cot hidden in the walls, you’d knocked against one of the panels and the door would swoosh away, revealing a simple bed and just enough room to roll around to attempt to be comfortable. The night after the first bounty you helped Mando with, he let you sleep some in the hidden nook as he piloted you two back to Nevarro. While you were standing outside the ramp and helping unload bounties, the Mandalorian inquired whether or not you would want to join him on future bounties. With an assurance that you would get your own cot, you obliged.

—

The bounty that you two are hunting on Carajam, the lovely desert planet, is hiding somewhere in the caves and cliffs a few klicks east of the space port that you are staying in. From the info you’ve picked up talking with a few locals, the quarry likes to hide in the sand caves because he has no friends. Well, actually it’s because he’s murdered about a person per household out of everyone who still lives on the desert planet. You thank the locals for their information with a few credits and a jug of desirable water.

You make your way to the only cantina on the planet, and by cantina you mean what is quite literally a bar top and six stools outside the shop of a local mechanic. The Mandalorian is sitting, waiting, on the last stool, facing the expanse of the desert that is a mere fifty feet from the edge of the little star port. You swiftly occupy the stool next to him.

“So,” you start, and he swivels in his stool to face you. You brace your elbows on the table. “About seven klicks east towards the main expanse of cliffs, and then about two more klicks north to the caves. One of the caves will look obviously occupied, trash and debris and whatnot. That’s what I’ve gathered.”

“Good work,” comes through the vocoder. “Are you ready to head out?”

“Yes, sir,” you smile, adjusting the straps of the small backpack you have. “After your lead.”

He swivels again and hops off his stool, and waits a moment until he hears you following him before beelining to the edge of town. You follow, obedient, as he weaves through the sparse crowd to another shop, lined with speederbikes and a few larger landcrafts. The Mandalorian walks up to the shop owner and exchanges a few words, and a few credits, and then moves to two of the speederbikes.

“You know how to ride?” He asks you, as you stand beside one and he the other.

“Yes, actually,” you say, always having a soft spot for fast land vehicles. You briefly wonder that, if you had said no, would he have made you sit behind him on one bike? The thought makes you smile, bashful, and you wait until he mounts his bike before climbing onto yours.

“Seven klicks east,” Mando says, repeating your earlier words and firing up his bike.

You turn yours on as well, and grab a pair of goggles from your backpack. You pull up the bandana you keep around your neck to cover your mouth, and then put on the goggles. You give a thumbs up to Mando, who was glancing over his shoulder to wait for your cue.

And then he zooms off. And you diligently follow.

—

You two reach the caves in a quick hour, specifically saving some hours of daylight just in case this job takes a turn. The two of you park your speederbikes about half a klick downwind of the cave, just in case. You keep your goggles on and bandana over your mouth, as the wind out here doesn’t seem to want to settle. Dust and sand weave around your feet like a clingy pet as you scale the short cliffside after your Mandalorian, following him quickly toward the cave.

You hover around the mouth of the cave as Mando stalks in, somehow still quiet despite his sturdy boots against the rock. To see down inside was near impossible, even as you took off your goggles. You hear some sort of scuffle, a few clatters, and then Mando is shoving a handcuffed quarry your direction. You reach up and steady the quarry, your hands on the man’s shoulders. Stars, he was a large man, so you assume that Mando only managed to shackle him due to surprise.

“Let go of me, you kriffing bitch,” the quarry seethes at you and aggressively shrugs his shoulders to loosen your grip. Mando takes a step towards him, you imagine he’s reacting to the derogatory term thrown your way, but you beat him to it—

You release your grip on the quarry, and while he’s stunned for a moment from it, you kick his foot out from underneath him. He falls hard on his ass and plops to the side, unable to stifle his fall due to being cuffed. With a slight smile, you watch him struggle on the ground.

“F-fuckin’ bitch,” he groans out, trying to roll over to a kneeling position. Once he manages that, Mando comes and grips the man’s shirt— lifting him inches off of the ground towards his helmet.

“Watch your mouth.”

And then Mando drops him.

The quarry gasps at the contact back on the ground and groans, almost falling over again. You go up behind him and grab the cuffs, wrenching him upwards and forcing him to stand. You grip the cuffs tightly in your left hand, and hold your blaster to the quarry’s back with your right.

“Let’s go, then,” you say.

The Mandalorian leads the way back towards the speeders.

—

After tying up the quarry to transport him on the back of Mando’s speederbike, you settle nicely back inside the Razor Crest. Mando already froze the quarry after he wouldn’t stop blubbering about how sorry he was for mindlessly murdering the people in port— he couldn’t help himself, apparently.

“Nobody is born a killer,” the Mandalorian tells the quarry before freezing him.

You avert your gaze away from him once the carbonite process is finished, allowing him to believe he had privacy with the quarry during their discussion. You had tucked yourself around a corner to avoid letting him know you like listening to the Mandalorian’s stern and assertive remarks to unruly quarries. You take mental notes on the way he talks, mostly to figure out what he believes in. A Mandalorian follows a creed, and your Mandalorian hasn’t mentioned a single thing about it since you’ve met him. By now, after half a cycle, you’ve figured out the basics. And the bottom line is that Mando is generally a good guy— a moral guy, you guess. Kind of like a vigilante who upholds his own justice, but a good guy nonetheless. If Mandalorians picked sides besides their own people, you think he would’ve joined the rebellion.

“I’ve set us on course back to Nevarro,” you offer as Mando walks back through to the main area of the ship and raises the ramp. You lean against the metal wall in one corner, watching him fulfil his routine.

“Good,” he says, appreciative in his own way that you know that he likes to be constantly on the move. “What’s the ETA?”

“Only a few hours,” you say, pushing yourself off of the wall and going to the ladder to the cockpit. The ramp closes as you grab the rungs, looking back to Mando as he shadows you at the ladder. “You should get some rest before we arrive,” you offer.

He’s silent a moment while you face back to the ladder and start ascending. You hear him mutter a ‘okay, thank you,’ through his helmet before you climb your way fully into the cockpit. Once you’ve ascended, you don’t hesitate to go and sit in the pilot’s chair. Although you’re not the best pilot, favoring studying combat and languages instead of flight and mechanics, you manage.

You settle in the seat and grab the flight controls, and hear Mando stepping onto the floor of the cockpit. You flick up a few switches and start the ship, letting her rumble to life while you look back over your shoulder at your Mandalorian.

“Sleep well,” you say with a hint of a smile.

He gives you a nod, hesitates, and then opens the door on the wall behind the cockpit, leading to the captain’s quarters. Once you hear his door swoosh close after his retreating footsteps, you let out a breath and encourage yourself, grabbing tightly onto the handles.

Just get it into the sky, and the autopilot gets you there, you tell yourself, forcing the Razor Crest into the air. She succeeds in ascending, and you raise the landing gear and disarm any land security protocols. Following a mental list, you do exactly as you’ve seen Mando, and get the ship into space in no time. A little shaky, sure, but you don’t think it was enough to stir the captain out of bed.

—

One cycle.

You two take a brief break. There aren’t any bounties worthy of your time, anyway.

The smoke crawls up your wrist, wrapping around your forearm before dissipating into the air. You hold the ornate stem of the smoking pipe to your lips, inhaling shallowly, and let your arm drop as you try to breathe the smoke in deeper. A heavy sigh and the smoke passes back out of your lungs, past your lips, forming a cloud in front of your face. You wait, still holding the pipe, and look expectantly at your hosts.

Upon landing on this planet, at what seems to be the only one semi-decent town, the Razor Crest was surrounded by the inhabitants. Seemingly human-esque, you and the Mandalorian walked out of the ship with no weapons in your hands, ready to barter for some fuel and lodging for the night. The people of the planet, through an interpreter, were more than happy to allow you to stay.

Under one condition; uphold their welcoming traditions and take a huge hit off of the pipe the dude who seemed to be the chief was eagerly thrusting towards you two.

Startled at the proposition, and more so by the growing ruckus of the onlooking crowd the longer Mando tried to deny the offer, you grabbed the pipe. The chief smiled widely and the crowd calmed, but Mando whipped his head towards you.

“Don’t smoke that,” he said. “You have no idea what it is.”

The interpreter tried to reassure you that it was safe, it was fine, a common plant that everyone on the planet enjoys. The longer you held the pipe without smoking it, the smaller the smile of the chief was and the more and more the rest of the people stirred. Eventually, it did devolve into a shouting match between Mando, the interpreter, the chief, and a few people in the crowd who were brandishing weapons.

So you smoked it.

You’ve smoked a few things before in your experience, not a lot. Drinking was always more your thing, knowing that once the liquid passes through you it will be gone from your system. Inhalants? You could never be sure. But you would be a bad sidekick to the Mandalorian if you didn’t sacrifice your lungs for ease of service.

After the first inhale, the chief smiled again, and gestured for you to smoke some more. Ignoring the verbal protest of Mando, you brought the pipe back up to your mouth and puffed again. A bit bigger of a hit this time.

Well, much bigger, judging by the size of the cloud you just breathed out. Surprised, you let out a chuckle, but the irritation in your throat causes your laugh to turn into a hearty cough.

And the crowd cheered.

The chief took the pipe from you and draped his arm over your shoulders, guiding you and Mando behind you into the town. It’s a little town tucked into a small clearing beside a freshwater river and a thick grove of forest, tall and green trees that seem to tower over everything— perhaps the tallest trees you think you have ever seen. On this planet, there are three suns, and they are constantly setting in succession. So, it’s never really nighttime.

And it seems like these people take advantage of that.

As the chief leads you and your Mandalorian through the stone streets lined with dark, muddy brick houses, your head starts to get light. Like, the tension in your neck loosens and your shoulders go slack. It’s nice— well, it would be, if you didn’t quickly associate it with whatever the chief insisted you smoke. The chief’s arm was still draped over your shoulders and he excitedly explained, in his native tongue, what you assume to be a detailed history of the town. All you could do was feign a smile, probably looking a bit dumb considered you don’t know if your cheeks are numb or just used to your wide grin by now, and nod in fake understanding. The Mandalorian is exactly three and a half paces behind you.

The interpreter is walking beside Mando, re-explaining everything the chief is saying. You aren’t able to listen to both the chief and the interpreter, somehow lacking the mental capacity to focus back and forth between the two, now. The crowd of people disappeared once you smoked from the fancy pipe, save for a handful that you assume are the chief’s servants, so the little troop led by you and the chief eventually hits the end of the main street.

The chief removes his arm from your shoulders and gives you a nice, hard slap on the back. He says something, while gesturing to a small cottage that bookends the houses lining the road. You’re too busy staring off in the distance, past the green grass that traces the treeline and river. One of the suns is setting, casting a mesmerizing red haze over the tips of the trees, painting the freshwater of the river golden.

You hear the Mandalorian call your name, and turn to face him.

And he’s standing there, at the door of the cottage the chief is letting you two use for the night, practically glowing with how the setting sun is glinting off of his beskar.

��Are you okay?” He asks, a second time, but you didn’t hear the first.

You cannot help the unabashed grin that swallows your face, and stumble over to the door. “Never better. Everything is great. You should’ve smoked that shit, too.”

You hear him sigh and he opens the door for you, stepping back so you can walk in first. So you meander in, hand lightly following the wall because you’re suddenly doubting your balance. You find a seat at the small table that’s placed in the middle of the room, and you still can’t stop yourself from smiling.

The Mandalorian drops a bag at the foot of one of the cots that he must’ve gone back to the Crest to get, but you don’t remember him doing that. And then he drops your night bag at the foot of the other cot, and you wonder when he went and got your bag.

“Thanks,” you croak out, still smiley, and brace your elbows on the table. “D’you have any idea what I smoked?”

“No,” he admits, voice monotone as usual through the vocoder. He pulls out the second chair and sits across from you. The cottage, small but spacious enough for two people to not knock elbows, was alight with soft sunshine filtering in through the numerous windows. Who needs light on a planet that is constantly day?

“How do you feel?” He asks, visor intent on staring you down.

“Spectacular,” you reply, staring back at the visor. You used to wear a gaudy helmet when you were a trooper, so you’re pretty damn sure you know exactly where his eyes are behind that mask.

“You look drunk.”

Your smile, instead of faltering, is drawn a little wider and your elbows slip forward on the table until your chest is pressed up against the wood, your chin almost touching the tabletop but your cheeks are squished by your hands, keeping your head up. “I feel like it, too. But, different at the same time, y’know?”

“No, I don’t know,” the Mandalorian says as he leans back in his chair. His hands are flat against his thighs, and you’re 99% sure he is simply watching you. Out of worry or annoyance, of course you can’t tell, but you’re leaning towards annoyance.

So you tilt your head to the side, staring back, trying your fucking hardest to stifle the stupid smile on your face but you just can’t. “Want me to tell you what you’re missin’?”

Surprisingly, the Mandalorian tilts his head as well, mimicking you. “Enlighten me.”

“Have y’ever got so drunk that you just had to sit there and wait ‘til the booze gets filtered out of your system?” You start, letting your head— so heavy— fall further to the side and land on the table, a nice foundation to ground you. You’re so slumped in your chair your legs are straight, sticking out of the sides underneath the table as you stretch your arms to dangle off of the table. “And yet it’s like, the best part of bein’ sloshed is comin’ up so you don’t want to sober up and y’just— just— sit there, stewing.”

He lets out a hum, letting you know he’s still politely listening to your ramblings.

Any thoughts in your head blur, images and words swishing around behind your eyes as you try to focus on what you were saying. “And nothin’ hurts or aches and you get to forget ‘bout everything bad you did that day and just look at the stars. Y’get to look at them, and for the first time you see them, see the life they hold and foster and you feel special knowin’ you’re a part of it all.”

There is a moment of silence, or— you think so, but your breathing is a little heavier than usual. The moment draws out, longer, and you’re beginning to wonder if you actually said that stuff out loud or if you simply thought it.

You bolt upright in your chair, cheeks red with embarrassment— but the fucking smile is still on your stupid face.

“I don’t know what’s up with me right now,” you admit, eyes focused on one of the windowsills off near the door, so you don’t have to look at that helmet and feel the stare behind it. “The chief said that they smoke this stuff all the time and don’t sleep a wink, but I feel super tired.”

In your peripheral vision you see the dreaded helmet glint in the sunlight. He’s looking at you, quizzically. “What do you mean?” He asks. “The interpreter didn’t say that.”

“No,” you agree, looking back at him. You try to focus where you know a face is behind the helmet, but you can’t get the image to clear in your head. It’s all a little blurry at the edges, and your Mandalorian is all edges. “I said the chief said that.”

“He didn’t speak any Galactic Basic. When did you hear him say that?”

The edges blur some more. “He said it when we were all walking, I dunno. He just said it.”

The Mandalorian looks toward the door, thinking.

“It must be the ganja,” you offer.

He looks back. “The what?”

“The offering. That’s what the chief called it. But, well, I dunno if that’s what it’s actually named or what they call it,” you say, unable to look at the sharpness and crisp lines that make up the beskar armor. What’s going on with you? You weren’t concerned until now, reaching a hand up to trace your bottom lip and finding that you have control over your face again. No more creepy smiling. “I feel fine, though. From smoking.”

You steal a glance at him and find that he is still, predictably, staring at you. Your cheeks grow hot again, suddenly feeling like a burden to your employer. He is not a babysitter, and you don’t want him to feel like he has to watch over you as you ride this high.

“Really,” you add. “I feel fine. Things look weird, right now, and my head is fuzzy, but it feels good.”

He stares, and you bitterly wonder if that’s all he’s good for.

So you stand up, eyes scanning the room and you notice the heavy curtains tied neatly above each window. “Guess we should sleep,” you say, stepping towards one of the windows to let the curtains down to block out the never-ending sunlight.

But, your ankles feel a little weak, and your balance falters.

Before your hazy head even registers that you’ve lost your footing, the Mandalorian is at your side, his right arm tucked behind your back, his right hand firmly on your right hip. His left hand is grasping your left upper arm tight enough to bruise, but without his strong grip, you would have crumbled to the floor like a tossed blanket.

“Are you okay?” He asks immediately, and holds you tighter and hauls you up back onto your unsteady feet. Once the words finally registered in your brain, you briefly thought that he really did sound concerned— masked voice a little higher in pitch than usual.

Your fuzzy head decides the best thing to do in response is laugh as you stood up back on your own. “I’m okay,” you assure, a hint of laughter still in your voice, and you raise your hand to lightly shove him away, not needing his support anymore.

But, since he’s solid as a fucking rock, your hand just brushes against the beskar chestplate uselessly. That causes you to laugh a little more, and he lets go of you once he’s sure you can stand solidly on your own.

“Are you sure?” He asks, still with that higher pitch that the vocoder almost hides. He’s hovering close to your side, ready to catch you again if he has to.

Curious, you raise your hand and tap your knuckles against his chestplate, and the resounding thud thud makes you smile. “Fuckin’ hardcore, Mando. I’m so jealous of your armor.”

“Yeah, you’re not okay,” he says, but you swear you hear a lilt in his voice, as though he finds you amusing. “You should try to sleep it off.”

He gestures towards one of the beds but you don’t look over to it. Instead, you tap your knuckles against one of his pauldrons. Tink tink.

“Really,” he insists, and you for sure hear the smile on his face in that one word. “You need some sleep.” He grabs your shoulders and turns you around, slowly, so that you’re facing the bed.

“Would you close the blinds?” You ask, stumbling forward to the bed. You flounce on top of the blanket, as this planet is quite comfortably warm— or are you just warm? — and let out a heavy sigh. A real bed.

“Of course,” Mando replies, strutting to each of the five windows in this small, quaint cottage and letting down each of the curtains. In the back of your hazy mind, you know he can see in the dark with the HUD in his helmet. The thought makes you slightly jealous, and you wonder if, as you turn to lay on your back in the blackness, if he may be looking at you. You blame the ganja for the fuzziness that overtakes you at the thought.

“Thank you,” you call into the darkness.

You hear his friendly hum somewhere in the room, and hear him sit down at the table again. Truly, the inhabitants of this planet know how to utilize the sun, and how to hide from it, as you open your eyes to stare at the ceiling and see nothing. It is completely pitch black, and you’re impressed.

The feeling of the mattress underneath you is almost too soft. You can’t remember the last time you were able to sleep on a real bed— if you ever had the pleasure. It reminds you of floating in deep salt water, the effort of staying afloat taken away from you as you just let it happen. Currently, you’re not sure if your eyes are open or closed, as it makes no difference. Your breathing is stable, and the haze in your head is tolerable. You must be coming down from the peak, and it’s making you tired.

Quietly, you hear the Mandalorian’s gloved hands grasp metal, but you’re not sure what. You hear something slightly heavy placed on the table.

He calls your name, softly, and unfiltered.

“Yes?” You reply, breathless. Did he take his helmet off?

“Go to sleep,” he says. His usually gruff voice sounds gentle without the vocoder.

“Okay,” you say, and you do indeed need to close your eyes. The blackness behind your eyelids seems almost darker than the darkness of the room. Unbeknownst to you, you must’ve been extremely tired, because you pass out almost immediately.

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian x you #the mandalorian #din djarin #reader scenario #din djarin scenario #mandalorian scenario #well i guess we're doing this pals #hmu with any feedback PLEASE #also yes i have this fic planned #and it will not be happy so dont ask LOL #or do #yes i did NOT have a title until taylor swift dropped her album #have fun #my writing #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader

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iworshipkeanureeves · 4 years

Text

Our last night (John Wick x You)

Summary: You have a very dangerous blood oath to fulfill tomorrow and this might be you last night spent with John.

Warnings: angst, smut (but it’s pretty vanilla)

Words: 1535

That damned marker… There’s no doubt there will be an open contract tomorrow… On your life, and very possibly John’s too. Still, the rules cannot be broken, not this time, the oath has to be fulfilled, even if it means going after the High Table.

The preparation has begun, and here you are, polishing blades for the most important and difficult job so far. John is right here by your side, cleaning weapons, counting his shiny bullets, even though he shouldn’t be. After all, it isn’t John’s blood inside that medallion; he just couldn’t leave you alone in this. You know he loves you unconditionally and it breaks your heart to see him standing right beside you like that; he’s calm and collected, pretending everything’s fine. But it’s not, just not this time. It is an impossible task, and even he, John Wick himself, might not be able to pull it off.

The room is silent, all you can hear is metal hitting hard wood of your dining table, echoing among tall walls of this living room, which currently feels so out of life, and John, breathing deeply and heavily, filling your soul with guilt, regret and sorrow. You really want to say something, though, you know that any sound leaving your throat will crack immediately upon reaching your lips and the last thing you need right now is to burst into tears, putting even more mental strain on top of it all.

“Go get some rest, I’ll finish this” John finally breaks the silence, taking a polished blade out of your hands and giving you a soft forehead kiss. You can feel your eyes watering and it isn’t left unnoticed. “What’s on your mind, honey?” he takes your hand, gently rubbing small circles inside your palm, but you look away, trying to pull yourself together. “Talk to me, please…” John puts the blade down and cups your face, wiping an emerging tear with his thumb.

“I’m afraid this might be our last night together,” you can’t even face him; “there’s no way we can survive tomorrow.”

“Honey, Y/N, look at me,” he lifts your chin up, “I understand it’s scary, we have to be prepared for anything, it’s the High Table we’re going after, but what I know for sure, I’ll always be by your side and I’ll protect you at all costs.”

“John, I’ll never forgive myself if it costs your life,” you can’t hold it for any longer and tears start streaming down your face, you suddenly turn into a huge mess and Johns seems to be apprehensive. He pulls you close, pressing your head to his chest tightly, and starts stroking your hair gently. “No, honey, it won’t. You know I won’t let that happen.”

You can feel John trembling, his heart pounding, and it makes you feel completely helpless. “Even if we manage this job, the contracts on us will be up before midnight. John, we have nowhere to go, nowhere to hide and I’m so tired of all this, I can’t even think about the possibility of having to do this all alone and I…”

“You’ll never be alone, Y/N,” John cuts you off. “This is it, I’m taking you upstairs, you are clearly overworked” he picks you up, kissing your nose, giving you a compassionate smile. Unfortunately, his lips are quivering, unveiling his concern, and it upsets you that he won’t admit he’s worried too.

“Would you like me to fill up a tub for you, Y/N?” John suggests, however, all of a sudden you feel so weary from such emotional overwhelm, that even taking a bath seems to be too hard of a task for you. “I just really want to go to bed tonight, if that’s okay,” you reply.

John lays you down gently, placing your legs down first and then slowly releasing your shoulders, one hand still holding your head. He kneels beside you “Y/N, you know I’m not good at expressing my feelings, and maybe I don’t say this often enough, but I really love you, more than anything in this world,” he whispers. “You don’t have to tell me, because you always show me, John, and I love you too, I always will” you pull him closer, reaching his lips and kissing him lovingly.

John sees you struggling to take you leggings off, so he’s more than glad to help you, slowly sliding them down your legs, rewarding each of your knees with a small kiss. He can see you’re exhausted and you don’t mind him helping you undress. John straddles you lightly, so that he could reach better to take your sweater off, leaving you wearing only lacy purple panties.

“Do you want them off as well?” he tugs lightly, placing soft kisses over your belly; you nod, adding “I also want you to stay here with me; we can finish packing in the morning”.

John is quick to undress himself, he turns the lights off and slides under the duvet hugging you tightly, your legs entwine and you sense pure intimacy surrounding the atmosphere. There is something cathartic about your naked bodies touching tonight, and you can feel John raw and exposed. He’s not John Wick any longer, he’s just your John, soft and vulnerable.

“John, what if it’s actually our last night?” you kiss his shoulder, gently stroking his exposed hip, feeling his body radiating soothing warmth.

“I really want to believe it isn’t, but who knows, Y/N, we can only enjoy the time we have,” he caress your cheek as he leans in to kiss your lips, his hand slowly traveling down your side, reaching your waist. “I’m afraid too,” he adds.

Now, it got real.

John has finally admitted to you, that there is a chance. A chance, that this night indeed might be the last for you.

Surprisingly, after his words, the fear has escaped your body, and all that remains is sweet melancholy intertwining with ineffable sensation of love, rushing through your veins.

“Make love to me” you mumble softly, sinking into his lips, slowly reaching down his hip, stroking him gently. Without breaking the kiss, John fondles your breasts, his thumbs rubbing small circles on your nipples, with subtle groans leaving his mouth.

John’s hand travels down your belly, spreading your folds, finding your clit. He’s working slowly making you shiver, his lips reaching your neck, then tongue sliding on your collarbones. You can feel John’s finger teasing your entrance, his thumb still rubbing you tenderly, his lips grazing your hard nipples, forcing you to push him closer, burying his face in-between your breasts.

Realizing how badly you need this, John’s finger goes in to warm you up a little, pushing in and out. As he starts to go even lower, trailing kisses all over your torso, you have to stop him, this is not what you need tonight, “I want you inside of me, John, filling me up, making me feel whole,” you sigh and he pulls his finger out, coming back to lips, kissing them dearly.

John strokes you outer thigh, pulling your knee up on top of his side, pulling you closer, giving your folds one last touch. You have accommodated to the darkness of the room and you can see his eyes set on you, revealing a hint of despair peeking through his affectionate gaze as he lines up with your entrance.

You place your palms on John’s bottom and push him in reassuringly, he enters you sideways, then turns a little so that he could be on top, slowly filling you up, stretching your burning walls. He caresses your cheek and leans in closer to your ear whispering “Is this okay, love?”

“Yes baby, don’t rush, I’m not chasing any highs today, I just want you close” you reply, kissing him, as you start pressing his bottom lightly just to pace him.

Every thrust feels like heaven, it’s like you’re bathing in love and everything that has bothered you before is gone now. It’s just you and him, making love, enjoying each other intimately.

John slowly pulls out, gently brushing between your folds, spreading your wetness all over. His tip feels amazing toying against your clit and as he pushes back in, you can feel yourself tightening, your abdomen is cramping and you can feel yourself getting close.

“John, I’m about to…” you whimper, with your nails scraping his back. “Let go, baby, I want to feel you come undone” he looks at you, fixing your hair, which have gotten stuck in your mouth. Seconds later, an extremely strong orgasm overpowers your body and you hold onto John tightly, clenching around his cock, breathing heavily. He slows down a little, still looking you straight in the eyes, he whispers “I love you,” and, just as you reply him “I love you too,” you can feel him spilling, his warm juices covering your insides, his throbbing cock pulsating at your walls, leaving both of you moaning and grunting.

You stop John from pulling out and you stay like this for a while, because you just can’t force yourself to let him go.

You are afraid you’ll be letting him for good.

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write-like-you-mean-it · 4 years

Text

A Hunter’s Prey: A Spider’s Web

The restaurant was a crowded mess of customers, waitstaff, bussers, people waiting, and many more. It was the perfect place for conversations to get lost in the noise. Dishes clinked together, parties were being thrown, and many drunk people shouting at their friends from across the bar. No wonder Machi picked this restaurant. It was perfect.

I didn’t see her yet so I grabbed an open table at the bar rather than wait out in the open. I was a little early too. Machi arrived twenty minutes late. I’d received a text earlier in the day that she would be a little late. I’d been sipping on my jack and coke the entire time. I didn’t want to be drunk for the conversation but maybe a bit tipsy.

Machi, on the other hand, ordered a simple water. The tension between us was palpable. The waitress just placed a second drink for me and her water and left. Machi sighed while I took another drink. Our game of who would talk first was getting a little embarrassing.

“Y/N, what happened? What’s going on? Why do you know about my line of work?” Once Machi starts talking, she sometimes doesn’t stop. Maybe this was how Illumi felt with my line of questioning.

I took another sip in hopes that the alcohol would reach my body faster. “Well, it started at the bar you dragged me to last time you were in town-.” Once I started, I had to finish. I didn’t want to leave out any detail. I told her about being kidnapped, about the Zoldycks, about Illumi’s and me, and I told her about the mission. Everything spilled out at once. My mouth refused to shut. All the feelings that I kept bottled deep down within me due to Illumi’s lack of voice rang out like a siren.

Machi, rather than react, sipped on her drink. I knew she was paying attention due to the small nods she’d give me throughout. Once I was done, she finished the last bit of her water and sighed once again. “Let me get this straight,” she said while placing her glass at the end of the small table. “You’re supposed to be Illumi’s wife because he told you that you were and instead of calling me or the police, you decided to stay.”

“My phone was taken away while I was officially kidnapped,” I mumbled. “The first time I got it back was when I texted you to meet up.”

The pink haired girl leaned back in the seat. “Makes sense. I was going to see if any of my troupe would want to help me out in finding your location. It’s not like you to not text me.”

“That’s why Hisoka was following us. Illumi had an urgent mission that required his attention.”

“No wonder that son of a bitch wouldn’t tell me anything. Truly, I thought he was following me.”

I chuckled a bit. “So you’re with the spiders?”

“Yeah,” she sighed. The kind waitress came back to refill drinks and see if we wanted anything to eat. Machi shooed her away. “They’re like my second family. I originated from Meteor City so I knew all the crew. We decided to become a team when we realized that life could be a lot more fun if we were filthy rich and had a lot of power.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah. It’s nice. Plus we’re kinda close. We all have a job to do and follow our boss.”

I nod my head while finishing my drink. The effects are starting to hit me a bit. Just enough of a fuzzy brain to feel as though all of her words make sense. “Illumi sent me on a mission.”

“I was surprised that he’d let you out of his sight. He seemed pretty controlling when I saw him awhile ago. I don’t sense anyone watching us.”

“Yeah,” I muttered. “It seems to be a learned behavior.”

“Well what’s your mission. Maybe I can help.” Machi leaned in close so that if anyone was listening, they wouldn’t be able to hear over the noise. “Or help you escape if that’s what you want.”

I paused for a moment. Did I want to escape? Machi was giving me an out. Out of anyone, she could help me; however, it might be the alcohol but I didn’t. “No, just the mission is fine. I’m supposed to convince your boss to let Illumi join the spiders.”

Machi sat back in her chair. “Illumi wants to join my group. Why?”

“He said you all have a common enemy. Don’t ask who it is, I don’t know. I’m to convince you and your boss to let him join. I don’t know why he sent me. Illumi could’ve persuaded your boss himself.

Machi looked up and down me. “I know why he sent you to talk with Chrollo. Really you don’t want to talk with him. Illumi shouldn’t have sent you. This mission will be a failure. We already have Kalluto. A second family member might not be that great for our brand. We’re not in his line of business.” She was being cautious of her words. Grabbing too much attention could hurt our chance of staying hidden. “What even makes you want to do this for him after everything he’s done to you?”

I thought for a moment. During this break, the waitress brought our check. I was the only one that bought something but Machi picked up the tab and paid. She’s rarely paid for me due to our work and play life to be separate.

“I guess it has to do with some good that’s deep down within him. It’s the quiet moments that are the best. I can tell he needs me even if he says he doesn’t. While he isn’t the best guy or the best talker or the most compassionate, there’s something there. It’s..” My thoughts drop off for a moment. “It's the small gestures. He’s trying even when it’s hard for him.”

A busboy came by to pick up the empty glasses. Machi finally stood up. “You know, I asked why you’re helping him, not why you’re falling for him. He hasn't passed my approval yet but I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“I’m not falling for him,” I say while following her out of the restaurant. “Also where are we going?”

“Yeah sure you aren’t falling for him. You just slept with him many, many times and miss him dearly.” Machi continued to walk out of the restaurant and down the street. She was dodging through the random people that were walking through town. I follow suit. “I’m taking you to see my boss. While I don’t think it’s a good idea, you’re already in too deep for me to convince you otherwise.”

I could feel the heat on my cheeks as I quickly ran after her. “Oh so we can just meet the boss. We don't have to make an appointment or anything.”

“Oh no. We’re meeting Chrollo and the rest of the gang too.” I almost misstepped. I could feel goosebumps running up my spine. Meeting the rest of the Troupe was not my goal. All I wanted was to talk to the boss then maybe get to hang out with Machi until Illumi picked me up. This was way out of my paygrade and Illumi had better reward me.

------------------------------------------------------

Meteor city was more desolate than I imagined. A lot of buildings were run down or demolished. Only a few structures seemed like they were built well. One of the more run down buildings, Machi went into. I followed closely behind.

“Machi brought a friend,” a voice from behind me. I jumped a little and turned around. However, I didn’t see anyone.

“Cut it out Feitan,” Machi said without turning around.

“I thought we shouldn’t have outsiders because of the last time,” said the voice again. I turned towards where it was coming from and again was met with nothing. I walked a little faster to keep up with Machi.

“This isn’t like last time. I know who I bring into the safe place. Plus we’re not staying here long. She barely knows Nen and has a mission. Is Chrollo here?” From the shadows came a short man. He had most of his face covered by a collar that led into his jacket. He was carrying an umbrella even though it wasn’t raining.

“He’s here. He wasn’t left.”

“Good.” Machi only stopped for a second. We went into another part of the building. This one has a little bit more put together. It had tall ceilings that reached so far up, I doubt anyone had cleaned them in years. Inside, sat multiple people. They were either playing a card game, polishing some old weapons, or looking at old paperwork.

“Chrollo, I have someone to talk with you,” said Machi while grabbing my arm. She pushed me further into the center of the room. Every cell in my body screamed for me to leave. All these terrifying people were looking at me. Every one of them could kill me in a second. My only solace was Machi and Kalluto standing far away in the corner.

The man holding the old-ish papers set them down on top of some wooden boxes. The guy from earlier grabbing them quickly and shoving them into a satchel.

“Machi, you have brought us a friend,” said the man. He was covered in a jacket that exposed his torso. Every inch of his chest was shown for the world to see. His jacket had some old feathers that were worn down from use. His hair was slicked back to the point that grease was shimmering off of it. The main focal point was the inverted cross on his forehead. This was Chrollo, the boss of the Phantom Troupe.

Chrollo walked up to me. Instead of talking or introducing himself, he walked around me. Machi had let go of my arm without me realizing it. It was as if I was sitting prey and a shark swam around me. “What’s your name?”

“Y/N,” I responded as Chrollo had finished his lap. He stopped right in front of me. “My name is Y/N.”

“Y/N.” On his tongue, my name felt like a fly trap. “Beautiful name to fit a beautiful girl. You know Machi?”

“Yes,” I responded. “We’ve been friends for years.”

“I’m guessing you're the girl that disappeared for awhile. She was about to employ a few members in her quest to find you.”

“I-I haven’t been missing that long. Plus I’m found alive and well.” Chrollo, instead of talking, looked me up and down once again. I could get a taste that he found something interesting within me. Something that I didn’t know was there. It was almost embarrassing.

“Hmm,” said Chrollo while turning around and going back to his seat. I look around to notice the rest of the members staring at us as if this all was a show. “I’m guessing you want something. However I won’t hear it yet. Stay enjoy the troupe. We’ll revisit your query in a few days.” He flashed a showy smile that felt more like a rabid dog showing its teeth than a human’s smile. “I want to get to know you.”

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#illumi x reader #illumi zoldyck #hunterxhunter #Hxh #A Hunter's Prey #Chrollo #phantom troupe #Chapter 19

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becausenoothernameisavailable · 4 years

Text

Wendigo Woods.

Dalton Big Bang 2020 Prompt: Dwodd day and next weeks prompt: Horror

Warnings: Little gore, blood, animal attack references, kidnapping.

“Hey.”

“Hmm, why are you whispering?” Dwight asked as he cleaned his gun, taking the bullets out and polishing the sleek metal gun. The body of the Colt glistening as he tilted it against the sunlight, checking for smudges and fingerprints.

“Because this is during office hours, also I think you may be right.”

“That the animal attacks are not just animal attacks.” Dwight asked serious, placing the colt down gently.

“Yeah, we just got the news and this is 6th case. It’s from the next county, but it fits the description.”

“Males aged 22 to 30, fit, from the area with, missing for a week and then ends up dead. Cause of death: Animal attacks.” Dwight read from the stack of gathered new papers on the seat next to him. He frowned putting the gun aside and pulling a large map of the surrounding area out. “Okay, see you at home then?”

“Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Todd walked into their apartment and shut the door behind. “Anything?” He smiled at the domesticity of it. They met when Dwight saved him from his roommate that turned out to be a vampire. Initial shock aside Todd was extremely impressed with Dwight and how he neatly staked his roommate and cut off his head. He even stayed around a bit to make sure he was alright before leaving, asking Todd not disclose to anyone what had happened.

The idea that there were supernaturals around shook him to the core but he later learnt there was a group of individuals – Hunters who made it their mission to protect the world from things that go bump in the night.

Like Dwight, it seemed and being in the line of work he was in - a reporter, he kept bumping into Dwight, who used to surreptitiously hang around crime scenes, till they worked out at an arrangement.

Todd, being supremely grateful for being saved, started telling Dwight when he was getting too close, becoming a suspect himself when he started showing up at every crime scene. They made a deal for Todd to suss out the crime scene and gain intel regarding the investigation. Being a legitimate reporter Todd had access to all data and crime scene photos and investigation details that Dwight normally had to hack his way into or impersonate.

It worked and kept on working and they started getting closer, hanging out outside “work” as well and then one day Todd kissed Dwight who kissed him back and here they were.

“Well.” Dwight kissed him and turned to look at the map of the area. “Two from our county and one each from the rest. The victims, males who went jogging/walking, well one was walking the dog. The dog is safe by the way.” Dwight said looking at Todd’s frowned face.

“Anything else.” Todd asked hugging Dwight from behind, his chin resting on Dwight’s shoulder. “Early morning or late night is when they went missing. They seem to have a penchant for healthy, young males it seems.

“Except this couple.”

“Hmm.” Todd enquired, he hadn’t heard about a couple going missing lately.

“I think they were the first.” Dwight said studying the old newspaper and his notes scattered on the table. “They were camping around this here.” Circling a spot deep in the woods. “They were not on sanctioned camping ground as this is where animals are usually spotted.”

“So you think they were the first?” Todd asked intrigued, thinking about the case that took place almost a year ago, “That was ruled out as an animal attack.”

“There were tracks of animals around but the camp was thoroughly destroyed.” Dwight said reading the news article from online. “It looked ransacked, who knows what was taken and kills looked sloppy.”

“But now they improved.”

“You think the first was practice and now they’re killing for sport.”

“Or food.” Dwight said standing up.

Todd let him go and frowned at him. “You think someone is staying there?’

“Well, there are caves nearby.” Dwight said drinking a glass of water, “where the couple was camping. Though after the incident, the campgrounds were closed, camping was stopped and only the trails close to the entrance were allowed, so maybe they had to come closer, become bolder.”

“Especially if they wanted to eat.”

“Yes.” Dwight agreed and collected the newspaper clippings and assorted weapons and placed it carefully in his bag.

“So I guess you’re going in then.” Todd asked and Dwight kissed him. “Have to, saving people, hunting things, the family business.”

“Be safe.” Todd kissed him deeply, licking at Dwight’s lips till Dwight allowed him access to his mouth. Todd’s tongue slipping in.

“Always am.” Dwight whispered and pulled Todd closer to him.

“Fuck.” Todd whispered and checked his phone again, but the last voice mail he got from Dwight was two days ago, telling him all was well and that he had reached the camping grounds and to stop worrying, that he knew what to do. After that, there was no other communication and Todd was seriously considering getting the cops involved but how do you explain that Dwight went camping in the woods in the cordoned-off area because he thought there was something living in the woods, killing people, eating them.

“Fuck.” He whispered and rubbed his face. He would need to do this on his own but Todd didn't know exactly what to do. Plus Dwight had taken the majority of his stash of weapons and only the spares were left behind.

He needed help.

“Where is it.” he mumbled, rummaging through their things trying to find a certain sheet of paper with details of other hunters. The family business line was actually true with Dwight’s cousin being a Hunter in himself.

“Lucas, Lucas, Lucas.” Todd said going through the surprisingly short list of names. One would think there would be more hunters around considering the spate of crimes and supernatural creatures, however hunting being unsanctioned and in most of the cases illegal; payments or rewards for a job well done was not a concept, not to mention the nomadic lifestyle and running away from the law and the hazards of the job as more than one name were scratched off.

Todd didn’t even want to think what it meant and then he finally found Lucas Water’s contact details.

“Lucas Walters? This is Todd Hendriks – Houston. I think I need your help.”

Todd surveyed the group of people in his living room. They had all finally arrived with Lucas arriving first; a day after the making the call, who then proceeded to call in for reinforcements, who turned out to be Dwight’s friends as well.

They all started out together and then branched out, establishing an area under their control so to speak, this way there was a hunter in almost every state, sometimes more than one in areas with dense population.

Sadie, Morgan, Laura and Lucas – Laura being the last to arrive, flying in from London. “Pure family reasons” she assured “Not business.”

“So.” Lucas said and the others turned to him and then to each other. “You’re Dwight’s husband.”

“Yes.” Todd smiled. “Just for two months, settling in has a newly married couple.” The girls grinned and Morgan smiled and nodded.

“And now he’s missing.”

“Yes.” Todd said pulling their map towards him. “We’ve been investigating a series of animal attacks and Dwight. “ Todd stopped and took a deep breath “Dwight, he went to investigate.” He looked at the gathered hunters, “You know saving people, hunting things. But it’s never been like this before.”

“He’s been missing for close to a week now. “Morgan asked moving towards the table with the map and the new paper cuttings. “Yes, after the latest victim surfaced. which was almost a week ago”

“And Dwight suspected something supernatural?” Sadie asked picking up a news clipping

“Well, he definitely fits the victim profile.” Laura remarked looking at the headings.

“I know.” Todd said worryingly. “He has gone to roughly this area.” He said circling the area on the map. “The jogging trail ends here and then the camping grounds start. There are even sign towards caves, though that has been cordoned off.”

He played them Dwight’s last voicemail.

“So we know Dwight reached the camping ground and then there has been no further news.”

“No.” Todd said. “And it will be a week soon.”

“You have not reported him missing right.” Morgan asked,

“No.” Todd whispered, “I didn’t know how to explain. How to make them go to the woods, the caves which are basically cordoned off.”

“Good.” Lucas nodded, “We go there tomorrow.

“I would like to come.” Todd requested, “Absolutely.” Sadie nodded, “You’re a part of the family.”

They set off early in the morning, slipping through the police barrier that was placed at the entrance of the park, now that the frequency of the cases was increasing. They soon reached the end of the trail and started to follow the directions to the campgrounds.

They soon found the signs for the caves as well as the warning signs.

“This is where we should now be silent.” Lucas whispered, looking at Todd, “We are well away from the entrance of the park and the common jogging, camping area and in their territory so to speak.”

He handed him a gun which Todd took, checking to see whether the safety was on, tucking it into the band of his jeans. “What.” He whispered when he saw the others grinning.

“Dwight has taught you well.” Laura smiled and Sadie grinned.

“He saved my life, that’s how we met.”

“That’s Dwight.” Morgan said clapping Todd on the back. “Come let’s go.”

They soon came across a small clearing and found signs of camping. “That’s Dwight’s” Todd whispered finding his bag of weapons and spare clothes that was always in the bag along with cash.

“Everything is here.” Todd said as he looked through the bag. The clothes, money, weapons everything intact. “This was not a robbery”

“It never was.” Morgan said and pointed to rock lying nearby caked with blood.

“He was attacked.” Laura whispered, “And dragged” Sadie whispered, pointing to a trail which lead out through the clearing and then got lost in the undergrowth.

“That’s the general area of the caves.” Todd whispered and removed his gun.

“Easy now.” Sadie warned. “We need the element of surprise.

“I suggest we break for lunch.” Lucas whispered and at Todd’s frantic look he explained, “We would need the rest and the sustenance to handle whatever it is we’re dealing with.”

“It’s reaching noon now.” Sadie whispered, “We eat quick, rest and then start soon. We need to reach the caves and Dwight before evening.

“We will.” Morgan whispered and started handing out packed sandwiches and water.

“I have a distinct feeling, we’re being watched.” Todd whispered as he followed the others down the part towards the caves. They were surrounded everywhere by tall trees and greenery, the sunlight throwing shadows everywhere amongst the undergrowth.

“We are.” Sadie whispered and Todd gulped. “I can see a figure amongst the bushes who has been watching us, tracking our movement. They are staying just out of reach, but I have caught them.

“Who is it” Laura whispered from behind Todd. Morgan was the last on their line-up bringing up the rear. Sadie was in the front, followed by Lucas, Todd and Laura. They kept him in the middle, being the inexperienced one. Plus Dwight would have definitely killed them if anything happened to his husband on their watch Laura pointed out.

“Can’t see features properly. But they’re tall, thin, slim, matted hair and fast.” Sadie remarked watching figure flitting in and out through the bushes.

“So human then.” Todd whispered.

“Definitely humanoid, considering the claws and scratches and bites probably a Wendigo or Succubus, Werewolf.” Lucas said.

“And they can all be killed by our weapons.” Laura whispered.

“And how many do you think will be there.” Todd asked carefully thinking of Dwight.

“Considering the kills, one, I think.” Lucas said softly as they made their way towards the caves which could be seen up ahead. “There would have been more kills if there were more than one person to be fed.”

“We are reaching towards the caves, look alive.” Morgan whispered, “and our shadow has also disappeared.” Sadie confirmed.

“We are definitely in their territory” Lucas confirmed when they reached the entrance of the caves. It was pretty dark in the area, the canopy of the trees blocking most of the light, it was nearing three Todd noticed and then looked around. There were multiple entrances but only a few looked plausible considering the general height of the individual Sadie told them.

“That one and this one.” she pointed out, “They’re low lying, easily hidden and small enough not to be noticeable but big enough to fit a human.

“Plus I see footprints.” pointing towards fresh tracks on the ground.

“We split up.” Morgan said, “Sadie and I will take this one” he pointed to nearest entrance “Y’all can take the other.”

“Then what.” Todd asked slowly removing the safety of the gun.

“Then we behead, burn, salt the bones and any personal items and burn again.”

“And how do we know if the others have found Dwight or are in danger.” Todd asked

“Follow the screams,” Laura suggested and Morgan frowned at her.

“Our normal call would be better.” Lucas said looking at Todd’s scared face. “Let’s go get our boy back.” clapping him on the shoulder.

The smell inside of the cave was unbearable. Todd grimaced and pulled his shirt over his nose. The others were doing the same.

“This is why.” Laura said through her t-shirt as they came across the remains of a half-eaten deer and other woodland creatures.

“It’s been supplementing its diets.” Lucas said and went further inside the cave and where they were able to breathe properly “It would less noticeable with the animals than actual human beings.”

“I think we are reaching a dead end.” Todd said when he noticed that the path they had taken was slowly decreasing in width. “You’re right.” Laura whispered. “Let go back the way we came from, there was another tunnel near the entrance of the cave.

“I hope the others are having better luck.” Todd whispered and covered his face with his shirt and started walking.

“I think we’re in the right area.” Sadie whispered to Morgan,” I think so too.” Morgan whispered realizing that their part of the cave felt smoother, airier and they soon came to a gathering of a sort which definitely looked live-able noticing makeshift bedding and “Dwight” Sadie whispered when she found her friend knocked out unconscious.

“He seems unconscious. “Morgan said rubbing at Dwight’s mouth at the smear of crushed leaves and what looked like berries. “ He was drugged.

“Or could be medicine.” Sadie whispered pointing at Dwight’s ankle which was swollen and blackish blue in colour. “So that’s why he couldn’t escape,”

“Not to mention the egg on his head “She ran her fingers through Dwight’s hair and found traces of dried blood

“He’s concussed.” Morgan whispered and something jumped him.

He wrestled with the creature who attacked him from behind, trying to get control of him and Sadie reached for her gun but found that she couldn’t get a clear shot with Morgan in the way.

She thumped the butt of the gun hard on the creature’s head and looked upon a Wendigo with roars of sharp teeth and claws for fingernails. The creature dropped Morgan and jumped on her and Sadie tried to aim the creatures snapping jaw away from her face when Lucas, Laura and Todd entered in and with one quick strike of a blade, the wendigo’s head was severed from the rest of its body.

“Search the area for any more of them.” Morgan said pointing at the creature, cradling his heavy head, Laura standing on guard with a gun trained and ready to shoot. Sadie and Lucas nodded and left as Todd ran towards Dwight who was slowly starting to stir with the commotion.

“Todd.” Dwight croaked feebly and Todd smiled. “Shush, I got you. I got you. You’re safe.” And Dwight closed his eyes.

“You be safe now.” Sadie whispered and kissed Dwight on the forehead. “I know.” Dwight mumbled. “I was concussed and drugged okay, otherwise I would have had it in the bag,”

“We know.” Laura whispered and Dwight hobbled to get from the couch, his head in bandages, faces and arms dotted in scratches in process of healing. “No, you rest.” She kissed him on the cheek, “I don’t want to have to save you again.”

“I had it under control.” Dwight snarked. “Till it wasn’t.” Morgan told him gently nudging him in the shoulder. “Till it wasn’t.” Dwight agreed.

“So that’s it for us then.” Sadie said and Todd stood up, “Thank you, he means the world to me.” He looked down at Dwight who was smiling at Todd softly. Todd kissed him gently on the lips. “I don’t know what I have would have done without him.”

“Stay in touch.” Morgan said as he opened the door. “Stay safe.” Laura said.

“Don’t worry, I will be hanging around for some time.” Lucas said as he walked them towards the door. “Will check the area out again, see if this is last or if anything new pops out.”

“Plus, I got a new brother that I need to catch up with.” And Dwight kissed Todd on the cheeks.

#Dwodd #Daltonfic #daltonverse #daltonbigbang2020 #daltonbigbang #cp coulter's daltonverse #cp coulter's dalton

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badchoicesposts · 5 years

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In A Land Of Myth...

Chapter 4

Summary: When Selene, a young sorceress, arrived in Stormholt she had every intention of remaining anonymous. King Constantine Rys had strict rules on sorcery. The act itself was punishable by death, and she had no desire to be burnt at the stake for her “crimes”. However, it becomes increasingly difficult for her to remain unseen when she becomes Prince Liam’s personal maidservant, and it seems that it’s her job to protect him from everyone that wants to kill him.

Author’s Note: So this is an AU that is a cross between TRR and BBC’s Merlin. If you haven’t watched the show before it follows the tale of King Arthur and the sorcerer Merlin. Merlin comes to Camelot where magic is outlawed and is made Prince Arthur’s servant. This fic will also contain some elements of The Crown and The Flame, but things have been changed up a bit to fit the Merlin story line.

Special thanks to @burnsoslow and @emceesynonymroll for helping me figure out how to write Drake X MC because my inner Liam stan was struggling.

Disclaimer: You do not have to watch the show to understand this fic, but it is based on the BBC show Merlin so the story line will be similar, but there will be changes made to fit my story as well.

Pairing: Liam x MC (Selene), Drake x MC (There will probably also be a fair amount of Platonic!Bastien x MC)

Taglist: @flowerpowell, @bobasheebaby, @alexintheskyy, @slytherincursebreaker, @kingliam2019, @furiousherringoperatortoad, @goldenbirdcrystalcage, @burnsoslow

Let me know if you would like to be added to or removed from the taglist!

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

Selene was panting heavily as she threw her sword up, blocking the oncoming blow from the weapon of her opponent. She spun in place, ducking as she held her shield up in front of her, blocking his next attack. The two carried on like this for a while. Him pushing her back and her retaliating. She finally seemed to be getting the lead in the fight when a second sword came at her from behind.

“Two against one doesn’t really seem fair!” she exclaimed as she tried to attack one of her opponents while blocking the sword of the other.

“Life isn’t fair,” Drake grunted out as his sword banged against her shield.

Selene scoffed at his words and turned her attention back to Bastien, who hadn’t been going easy on her either. His attacks were aggressive, and with her energy beginning to dissipate, they were easily starting to overpower her. However, she soon saw her opening. Drake was busy shielding the top half of his body, but his bottom was completely unprotected. She ducked underneath Bastien’s sword and thrust her leg out, kicking Drake hard in the shin in the process, causing him to fall to his knees. No one said she couldn’t fight dirty.

“That’s not fair!” he groaned in pain from his spot on the ground.

“Life isn’t fair,” she called back with a smirk.

She turned back to her remaining opponent, intent on finishing this and winning. It wasn’t until she leaned forward in attempts to attack Bastien again did the hem of her dress begin to drag, causing her to trip as she stepped onto the garment. She fell face first onto the soft grass, her shield falling to her left and her sword falling to her right.

“I despise this dress,” she mumbled out in between heavy breaths as she turned to lay on her back.

Bastien chuckled and threw his weapon down as well, holding his hand out to help her back to her feet as he attempted to catch his breath as well. Selene groaned as he pulled her up. Her entire body was aching and all she wanted was to fall into her bed and sleep until next week. She moved over to Drake and held her hand out to him. The man glared at her momentarily, but took her hand anyway and allowed her to help him to his feet. He winced as he placed weight on his leg, and Selene smiled at him apologetically.

“Sorry, about that,” she said.

“You’re not sorry at all are you?” he asked as her face turned from apologetic to amused.

“I’m a little sorry,” she responded with a laugh.

“You saw a weakness, and you exploited it. It was a smart move. I’ll give you that,” he said as he leaned down to massage his leg.

“So you’re saying I’m a good fighter?” she teased. “I mean I did beat you after all.”

Drake rolled his eyes. However, she could see the sides of his mouth turn up ever so slightly, and she elbowed him playfully.

“You’re getting better,” Bastien said, as they gathered their belongings and began to make their way back into the castle. “You’ll be sparring with Liam in no time.”

The woman nodded in response, too tired to use words. She had been working as Prince Liam’s maidservant for almost two weeks, and she was still adjusting to the changes. The first few days had been fairly easy. Liam was being extra nice, assigning her only a few responsibilities per day. However, as time passed and he got more comfortable with seeing her everyday, her list of chores almost tripled.

She was now responsible for getting him up in the mornings, helping him dress for the day, making his bed, doing his laundry, polishing his armor, cleaning his chambers, preparing his meals when he wasn’t dining with the royal family, helping him get ready for bed, and whatever else he decided to throw her way. On the odd occasion he had even asked her to make sure his horse was properly cared for when returned late at night from a patrol, and the stable workers had already retired for the day.

She had learned fairly quickly that part of her regular duties should have been going with Liam on patrols and missions, but because she had no combat training whatsoever, he had been taking Drake with him instead. She immediately asked Bastien to begin training her, something he had been happy to do, and after their first few training sessions, he had roped Drake into helping her as well . Now she was getting better each day, but she was also more worn out than ever.

The three parted ways and Drake headed back to his house as they made their way to the castle.

“So, I save Liam’s life, and Constantine’s reward is working me into the ground,” she complained once they had made it safely back to their chambers.

“We all have our duties, Selene,” Bastien said, momentarily pausing their conversation as another servant bustled into the room with dinner for them.

Selene leaned back into her chair and thanked the woman before she left. She took a moment to appreciate how lucky she was. Other servants didn’t get to go home in the evenings to a plush bed and warm food from the palace. However, that didn’t stop her from wondering how this was Constantine’s idea of a gift.

“But my whole body is sore,” she complained, dramatically reaching her arm out and grasping at the air “in attempts” to reach the food that she had no way of actually reaching without sitting up.

Bastien just looked at her amusedly. She muttered an incantation under her breath and her plate came soaring into her hands, causing her to smile proudly.

“What did I tell you about using magic?” Bastien asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“That I should definitely do it,” she said with an innocent smile, pulling a glare from the man. “Oh, relax. You’re the only one here.”

They finished their meal in a comfortable silence, and she bade him goodnight before going up to her room, knowing that she would need to be up early in the morning to help Liam prepare for the tournament that was beginning that day. All of the knights from the surrounding kingdoms were gathering in Stormholt for it, and he needed to be ready on time. As she disrobed for the night, Selene closely inspected her dress. It had become even more tattered and dirty than it had been before, now covered in dirt and mud from when she fell in the grass. There was also a small tear on the torso from where Bastien’s sword had sliced the fabric when she couldn’t get her shield up in time. She had another dress that she could wear tomorrow, but if she were to continue training she would need something more protective and less burdensome to wear. She got into bed, knowing where her first stop would be tomorrow.

Selene rose early, sneaking out of her and Bastien’s chambers before the man had woken up. She walked through the palace halls quickly and began the short journey to her destination. Drake was always up early, so she didn’t have to worry about waking him, but she did need to get back to the palace in time to wake the prince.

She knocked softly on the door to his dwelling and smiled up at him kindly when he greeted her.

“Selene!” he exclaimed in surprise upon seeing her. “How can I help you?”

“Um, may I?” she asked, gesturing past him to indicate that she wanted to be invited in.

“Oh! Of course,” he said moving aside and allowing her to enter.

Most of the time Selene and Drake had spent together had been during her training, but in that time she had become very comfortable around him. He could be guarded and closed off, but she was slowly working on breaking those walls and coming to like the kind hearted person that Drake truly was. Bastien explained to her that he had helped raise Drake and his sister after their father’s death. Bastien had worked closely with Jackson Walker, as the man had been the royal blacksmith before his death. When he had come of age Drake took over the family business, and he now spent most of his time in his workshop. Drake was always nice to Selene, and she appreciated that. He made her feel welcome in Stormholt.

“I’m sorry to drop by this early, but now was the only time I had before the tournament,” she explained, removing her cloak and sitting down at the small table in his kitchen.

“You’re welcome here anytime,” Drake said.

A faint blush rose onto his face once he realized what he said, and he quickly cleared his throat.

“How’s your leg doing?” she asked with a small embarrassed smile pulling a chuckle from him.

“Nothing a good night’s rest didn’t fix. Although, you’re a lot stronger than you look,” he said with a wince as he thought back to the kick. “What can I help you with?”

“I need armor.”

“For Liam?” he questioned, taking a seat across from her.

“No, actually. For me,” she said, biting her lip nervously.

He gave her a knowing smile and rose to his feet.

“I hope you don’t mind, I already took the liberty of preparing something for you.”

Drake slipped out of the back of his small house and into his workshop. He returned a few moments later, his arms full. Selene smiled widely as she looked over the pieces of armor that he dropped onto the table.

“You already had this ready?” she asked excitedly, lifting one of the vambraces and inspecting the handiwork.

“Some of the pieces were already underway, I just needed to make a few small changes so they would fit you,” he said, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.

“May I?” she asked, already slipping the hauberk over her head.

The chainmail shirt fell down to her thighs, and she immediately began fiddling with the vambraces, the pieces fitting her arms perfectly.

“Can you help me with these?” she asked, gesturing to the rest of the armor.

Drake nodded and grabbed the gorget, his fingers brushing lightly against her skin as he placed the item around her neck. He then set to work helping her secure the pauldrons over her shoulders, quickly completing the task and stepping back to admire his handiwork.

“How do I look?” she asked placing her hands playfully on her hips.

“Like you’re ready to take on the world,” Drake said softly, a smile tugging at his lips. “Or at least the top half of you does.”

He motioned to her legs which were still being covered by the skirt of her dress. However, she just beamed in response, happy to actually have armor of her own.

“Not the whole world. Just a small part of it,” she responded playfully, pulling a laugh from her companion.

“Thank you, Drake. It… um… it may be a while before I can pay for all of this,” she said nervously looking down at the armor. There was no way any of this would come cheap.

“Oh, that’s not necessary!” Drake said quickly. “Consider it a gift.”

“Drake, I couldn’t. I know these must be worth a fortune,” she said, beginning to pull the pieces off as she prepared to leave.

She handed them back to him and pulled on her cloak, trying to figure out which item she would buy first when she had the money to afford it.

“You should take all of it now. If you insist you can pay me when you have the money,” he said, loading the items into a sack for her.

Selene opened her mouth to protest, but Drake immediately cut her off.

“You’ll still pay me back, just not right away,” he said, handing the items off to her with a small smile.

Selene launched herself into his arms, squeezing him tightly in gratitude.

“Sorry,” she mumbled as she stepped back, her face burning with embarrassment at her actions. “Now I really do feel bad about kicking you in the shin.”

Drake laughed at the guilty look on her face. The two parted ways, and Selene had an extra pep in her step as she made her way back to the palace. She jogged back to her quarters and threw the door open, startling Bastien who had been having breakfast.

“Hi, Bas!” she said excitedly as she ran up to her room and dropped the bag of armor down onto her bed.

She was now in a hurry, having spent more time with Drake than she had originally intended. She didn’t have much time before she needed to be across the castle to wake Liam.

“Bye, Bas!” she called as she bounded back down the stairs and out the door.

She broke out into a run as she made her way to Liam’s chambers, skidding to a stop in front of his door. Selene stopped for a moment to catch her breath before opening the door to already find Liam awake.

“Prince Liam! I apologize for not knocking. I didn’t think you were awake yet,” she said quickly averting her eyes when she realized that he was moving about his chambers topless.

Selene immediately scolded herself for doing so. She had seen him topless several times. It was literally part of her duties to help him get dressed. Although, she had to admit it was the one part of their day together that still made her blush uncontrollably. She closed the door behind herself and immediately busied herself by moving to his wardrobe.

“Good morning, Selene,” he said happily, as he pulled on the rest of his clothing. “I rose only a few moments before you arrived.”

Selene immediately got to work on helping him with his armor. She fastened his breastplate around his chest as he looked down at her, intently observing her as she worked. She glanced up, momentarily meeting his eyes as her hands rested on her chest. He offered her a small smile which she returned with a slight blush, while reaching for his cloak. Selene stood on her toes as she reached up to wrap the long garment around his shoulders. Liam was one of the tallest men she had ever met before, a fact evident by how much she needed to reach up to fasten the cloak together by the base of his neck. The top of her head barely reached his bicep when he was standing up straight. Her height was something people often ridiculed her for, but Liam never once commented on it, instead simply leaning down for her to reach better.

“Are you nervous for the tournament?” she questioned, as she finished what she was doing.

“Liam never gets nervous!” Leo said happily, pulling the two of them out of their bubble. Neither had even realized that he had entered the room.

Selene turned to greet the other man respectfully. However, the anxious look on Liam’s face at his comment didn’t go unnoticed by her.

“Good morning, Leo,” she greeted.

Soon after the night of “Lady Joelle’s” performance, Leo had asked her to begin addressing him without a title.

“Thank you for that vote of confidence, brother,” Liam said as he grabbed his sword and prepared to leave for the beginning of the tournament.

Selene began to straighten out the sheets on Liam’s bed as the two brothers carried on a whispered conversation between themselves. After a moment, Liam turned back to her and cleared his throat nervously.

“Selene, will you accompany me down to the tournament,” Liam asked, fidgeting with his earlobe the entire time. “In case I need your assistance!” he added hastily as Leo chuckled quietly behind his back.

“Of course, sire,” she responded, ready to follow him out to the courtyard.

“Good. Great,” he said awkwardly as he turned to walk forward, Leo clapping him good naturedly on the shoulder.

Selene watched in confusion as Liam glared at his brother, the other man only smirking in return as the made their way outside. Liam joined the other knights gathered in the tournament area, and Selene stood next to the stands that had been erected for the spectators. Her position gave her a perfect line of sight to the area where the men would be fighting but allowed her the access she needed to move freely without having to worry about disturbing other on-lookers if Liam were to need her assistance.

Lady Madeleine and Queen Regina were sitting on two thrones away from everyone else. There was another throne between the two of them that Selene could only assume was for the king, but the man himself was nowhere in sight. However, she didn’t have to wonder about his whereabouts for long before the man made his entrance. Constantine seemed to have a flair for grand entrances. He stepped up in front of the gathered knights and addressed them along with the rest of the crowd.

“It is a great honor to welcome you all to Stormholt. In combat we learn a knight’s true nature. Whether a knight is indeed a warrior or a coward is shown in the way he wields his weapons, in the way he faces his opponents. Knights of The Realm, over the next three days you will put your skills and bravery to the test. Only one will have the honor of being crowned champion. Let the tournament begin!” he concluded, cheers erupting from the stands.

The first two knights began to battle, one of them quickly overpowering the other much to the amusement of the crowd, and Selene watched on not understanding what was so entertaining about two men fighting each other for no reason. Her interest wasn’t piqued until she saw Liam prepare for his fight. She knew that he was the reigning champion, and it didn’t take her long to figure out why. He was light on his feet and moved gracefully. The other competitors were brutish and seemed to enjoy inflicting pain on their opponents. Liam, however, moved quickly and quietly, pushing his opponents back and only forcing them down when absolutely necessary.

Most of the crowd cheered loudly for him, and before Selene even realized what she was doing, she had joined them. It was clearly easy to see who everyone’s favorite was. However, as entertaining as it was to watch the first time, she found herself beginning to lose interest after a few hours of watching duo after duo go up against each other. The young woman was thankful when the fighting for the day had ended, and Liam approached her happily. She held her arms out to take his helmet from him.

“You were wonderful out there,” she complimented, causing him to smile in return.

“Thank you!” he said excitedly as he began to make his way back to the castle, obviously still on a high from the excitement of the activities.

“Prince Liam!” a voice called from somewhere behind them, making them both turn around.

Selene sunk back behind Liam as they were approached by Neville, a knight from Cormery Isle. He had been another victor in today’s competitions, however his style of fighting couldn’t have been more different to Liam’s. He was aggressive and ruthless, trying to cause as much pain as he could.

“I offer my congratulations, Your Highness. You performed very well today,” he said, an unmistakable hint of arrogance in his voice.

“Thank you. You fought very well yourself,” Liam responded, his voice was diplomatic, but not friendly.

“I hope to see you at the celebration tonight,” Neville said, bowing slightly as he moved along.

Selene and Liam watched him as he walked away, both feeling uneasy about the man but neither one expressing their concerns to the other. After a moment, Liam turned back towards the castle, pulling Selene along with him.

“Creep,” she mumbled under her breath, causing him to chuckle.

“For tomorrow I need you to sharpen my sword, clean my chainmail, and repair my shield,” he informed her.

Now that the tournament was done for the day, she was almost happy to have something to do. She gathered his items and made her way to the armory the knights had been using to store their weapons and shields for the tournament. She had just placed Liam’s possessions onto the long table in the center of the room when she heard a soft rustling coming from somewhere behind her.

“Hello, is someone there?” she called.

Hearing no answer, she returned back to the task at hand. Sharpening Liam’s sword was a fairly easy chore, but she was interrupted almost as soon as she had started by the same rustling sound. She turned around and followed the noise that began to sound more and more like a snake hissing as she got closer to the source. The noise seemed to cease altogether as she stopped in front of a shield and looked down at it curiously. It was bright yellow and had three snakes twisted around each other painted on it. She immediately recognized it as the one Neville had been using today. Instinct told her that something was wrong, and she stooped down to inspect it closer. She was just about to reach out to touch it when she noticed something startling. The bright red eye on the snake painted on the left of the shield seemed to be following her movements. The hissing noise began again and she jumped in shock, her body falling back against the floor.

Selene immediately shot up, grabbed Liam’s possessions and made her way back to her chambers. After anxiously pacing around the room for a few moments, she sat at the dining table, sharpening Liam’s sword absentmindedly as she waited for Bastien to return from the celebration downstairs. He returned a while later, after she had already cleaned the prince’s chainmail and had moved on to repairing his shield.

“I didn’t expect you to be up at this hour,” he greeted her with a smile.

The young witch was so lost in thought that she hadn’t even heard him come in. She dropped the shield in surprise at his voice and bent over to hastily pick it back up after her heartbeat had finally returned to a normal rate.

“Bas, I have something to tell you that you may not believe,” she stated, beckoning him closer.

The man looked at her with concern and took a seat next to her.

“What’s troubling you?”

Selene struggled with her words for a moment.

“I saw something today. I was in the armory after the tournament, and I heard a noise. I followed it and it… it seemed to be coming from Sir Neville’s shield,” she said hesitantly.

“A noise was coming from his shield?” he questioned skeptically.

“It was hissing… the snakes on his shield were hissing. And then I noticed that their eyes seemed to be following me,” she said, fully aware that what she described didn’t sound logical.

However, Bastien knew what she was implying.

“You believe he’s using magic?” he asked.

“I don’t know anything for certain, and even if it was a magic shield, I don’t know that it can cause harm,” she stated.

“Selene, that type of alligation is extremely serious. You can’t mention this to anyone else without being absolutely sure,” Bastien warned, his voice serious.

Selene nodded as she contemplated his words.

“What should I do?”

“There’s not much you can do without some kind of proof. In Constantine’s eyes the words of a servant will mean nothing against the word of a knight,” he responded.

Selene nodded and continued repairing the shield in front of her, already knowing that she was in for a long night of worrying.

~~~

Selene went through the motions of preparing Liam for battle in a daze the next day. She was still worried that Neville was possibly using an enchanted shield but knew that Bastien was right. Voicing her concerns to Liam without being certain would do more harm than good.

“Are you alright, Selene?” Liam asked her as they made their way down to the tournament sight. “You seem troubled.”

She was surprised that Liam had been paying enough attention to her to notice her mood, but instead of saying anything she simply smiled instead.

“I’m fine, Your Highness,” she responded, causing him to look at her skeptically. He didn’t have time to question her further though, as the day’s activities were just beginning.

Selene watched on as various knights battled each other, not finding any of it very interesting. It wasn’t until the final duel of the day began that she finally decided to watch closely. Neville was going up against another knight, and she kept her eyes firmly planted on his shield. From her angle, she could see his every move. He was being overly aggressive, but that was the same as the previous day. She was looking for something more than just that anger to prove that he was doing something wrong.

The two men struggled for a while. The other knight was obviously more skilled than Neville’s previous opponents and was not succumbing nearly as easily. Neville’s, however, soon gained the upper hand and delivered a harsh blow to his opponent, causing the other man to fall to his knees. He placed his shield close to his face and that was when she saw what she was looking for. One of the snakes from the shield came to life and struck the other knight on the neck before moving back. It disappeared back into the object and the surface of the shield became completely flat again, as if the creature hadn’t just come to life. Neville delivered another unnecessary blow to the man’s head, making it seem as if that was his reason for falling over.

The rest of the crowd cheered loudly, excited that the man had won and would be participating in the finals the following day. It was obvious that none of them had seen the snakes come to life as Selene had. It was at that moment that Selene realized Neville’s plan, the reality chilling her as if she had just been submerged in cold water. He would be fighting against Liam tomorrow. Neville planned on killing the prince.

#the royal romance #the royal heir #liam #king liam #liam x mc #drake walker #drake x mc #bastien lykel #trr bastien #bastien x mc #playchoices fanfic #choices fanfic #the crown and the flame #trr #trh #my fics #choices #playchoices

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icosmohunters · 4 years

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chapter three : crimson red

chapter three of cosmo hunters!

word count : 6.6k words

synopsis : an agreement has been met and now hope has agreed to take these pirates under her wing. literally. now, she continues to be on the hunt for the criminal on top of her bounty list. and she intends to make it work. but something in her bones tells her that perhaps it won’t work as smoothly as she’d planned.

“ would you mind warning us when you’re taking off? ”.

“ my ship, my rules. i don’t owe you the comfort of a warning, pirate. ”

was she being mean? it didn’t particularly matter if she was because she had fallen asleep, and like a protagonist out of a shounen anime, she was rushing to get herself away from her current location and to where she had to be. j-colony was waiting for her! and a dozen bounty points waited in reward.

hope hadn’t expected anyone to wake her up, so she mainly at fault for letting the ball drop and taking too long to wake up. but the warmth in the cabin and the full stomach she had after a proper meal sent her into dreamland shortly after she sat on her navigation chair.

and upon waking up, hope had gasped herself out of her daze and launched her right arm forced, sending the engine lever forward and the engine roaring with life. she could hear all of the extra bits of the ship, like the iron legs folding into the bottom of the ship when it began to rise off the ground.

nebula was hovering for a moment until a button lit up on the left side of the control panel, a green light giving her clearance to blast off. wrapping her trembling fingers on the orientation stick, she moved it forward and the nebula followed, moving forward just an inch before hope let out a laugh and threw the stick forward.

and with that, nebula blasted off.

of course, anyone on board the ship could tell that nebula had taken herself out of europa’s atmosphere and freed herself from its pull and its ice. the engine was heating up, and so was the ship, so much so that outer layers of frost had melted within seconds. the ship shifted a couple of times, rocking to the side before it found its balance point and took off into outer space, heading straight for jupiter.

of course, someone had come into her cabin, probably awoken by the small earthquake that had just taken place within the spaceship.

it was enzo. hope kept her gaze fixed in front of her as she saw the dense gas giant who rotated rapidly, the winds there were said to be enough to rip the very skin off your body. good thing that the j-colony was designed to withstand those strong winds.

“ i get that but you could’ve woken us up. we shouldn’t have slept for that long either so, yeah. maybe have your a.i set up an alarm clock? ”.

“ mhm, yup. ”

hope wasn’t listening at all. she was listening but she wasn’t taking any of it in, mostly because she was brain-storming. it had been said that crimson would be in a plaza or some sort, a shopping center set up in the middle of the colony. and to be fair, j-colony was perhaps the largest one in the solar system, around five times the size of the biggest capital city on earth, beijing.

so if this prick took off running when he spotted her, he would travel a lot. it was why she needed to organize maybe a hoverbike to hunt him down in case he took off. because as fit as she was, hope didn’t like running. she hated it.

so, a hoverbike along with some new weapons, perhaps a new collection of tracking devices . . . she was counting it on her fingers now that she had put nebula on auto-pilot.

oh, and enzo was still talking.

“ and might i say, i am quite good at navigating so maybe if you were, uh, feeling sick, you could always let me take over ”, he spoke.

“ if i could choose between you and my pet dog navigating the nebula, i choose my pet dog. and he passed away last year. that’s how much i won’t trust you, or anyone, with my ship ”, hope snapped back quickly, swerving her chair around to face the pirate captain. he had changed into some new clothes, he looked less dead than a couple of hours ago but the bruise on his cheek still remained.

enzo seemed at a loss for words for a moment, until he seemed to gather some. “ i was just offering, jeez. but uhm, quinn told me you were hunting someone down. why do we have to stay on the ship?”, he questioned.

“ because i said so. ”

watching his reactions was rather amusing, he exuded such confidence but would then become flustered when the trail of the conversation didn’t seem like it was going his way. if anything, it was funny. “ how about an actual reason, captain? ”, he asked.

“ i just gave you one. ”

“ no, i mean like a proper answer. we could help you, you know. we’re capable fighters. i mean, minus little dawn but still! we can help, all you can do is give us a plan and we’ll follow it, simple and clean, no worries about it! ”, enzo sounded so optimistic that hope almost didn’t want to reply.

“ pirates don’t do simple and clean, i swear ”, hope commented, tilting her head and seeing the energy draining from enzo’s face, his hands dropping to his side whilst his eyes simply rolled. “ i can’t understand why you came here expecting to mingle with my issues like we’re a team or something. i’m a solo bounty hunter, i don’t need help. let alone help from pirates who all have bounties. but if you want to step outside and get caught, be my guest. but i’m still taking you darlings to pluto and i’d recommend not dying on the way there. ”

enzo grunted, “ okay. but if you end up getting hurt, we won’t have anyone to take us to where we have to be. ”

hope blinked slowly. “ you can take the space bus. teleporter. gate-ways. fuck’s sake, man, it’s not rocket science. but if you’re so fond of my ship, keep out of trouble whilst you’re on it! ”, she argued back quickly. he made an injury to hope sound like the end of the world.

“ yeah, but . . . ”.

“ whatever your concern is, it’s irrelevant to me for the time being. so, before i lose it, i suggest getting out of the cabin. do what you want but just don’t go into my room or the basement ”, she explained firmly, and then waved him off in a dismissive manner. “ go, shoo. ”

he looked like he had more to say, but whatever those words were, they were left unspoken as he turned and walked towards the elevator and soon disappeared from the room. sighing into her hands, hope began to massage her temples.

she wasn’t used to having people around, so she found herself snapping rather frequently. she didn’t realize how much she disliked it until now, but in a single second, she found herself giving less of a fuck. because she didn’t have to be friends with them, and she didn’t have to treat them like there could be any bond between any of them.

so the guilt which she felt vanished within a second.

realizing that she would have to get changed into her gear, hope continued to leave nebula on auto-pilot and programmed a speed boost in around thirty minutes. a speed boost would surpass the speed of light and bring those millions of miles between nebula and jupiter’s surface down to a couple of seconds of traveling. and not to mention the fact that the gas giant’s gravitational pull was tyrant-like, it would be like teleporting to the surface.

after leaving the navigation cabin, hope descended down to her room, the iron doors sliding open upon detecting her presence and she looked at her vacant bed and then towards her closet. snapping her fingers, the closet door swung open and a holographic screen followed.

“ what kind of clothes are you looking for today, hope? ”, a.j’s voice boomed through as the doors slid closed behind her and as she moved towards the wardrobe.

“ usual hunting clothes. depending on the weather, i might bring a jacket just in case. but i doubt it’ll be cold at j-colony ”, hope spoke. from the holographic screen, she went through her clothes and picked everything, from black crop top down to the baggy, military jackets in black and grey. even the boots with jets on the soles. “ my jacket’s been washed, right? ”.

“ yes, all of your clothes were washed and dried during your small nap. your shoes have also been polished and the jet on the boots you’ve chosen has been fixed. ”

“ wonderful ”.

after her clothes were delivered to her, she reached for the bottom of her top and slowly slipped it off, figuring that it was safe to do it but that’s when she heard the door open and her eyes flickered over to the door. dom had walked in without even announcing he was there.

when their eyes met, hope just saw his eyes flicker down and a slight redness that reached his cheeks. she was only in her sports bra but somehow it invoked a reaction of embarrassment from dom’s face.

“ uhm. ”

“ do you practice the art of walking in on people whilst they’re changing? ”, hope asked rhetorically, averting her gaze back to her clothes as she put her vest to the side and then put on the comfortable crop top that had a very nice turtleneck detail to it.

“ n-not exactly, but, uhm, dawn is asking where you keep all of your medical kits and if she can have a look. she has no resources and enzo’s bruise is still purple ”, he actually turned away, so hope continued to change comfortably. she lacked that self-awareness and sense of embarrassment. quite frankly, she didn’t have to hide when he had been the one who waltzed in like he owned the place.

hope rose a brow whilst attaching her straps around her trousers and then her belt and pouches. “ the bunks have storages on the side. i don’t go in there so the medical kits in the cupboards and shelves are still there ”, she explained. then came her jacket, navy blue in color which somewhat matched the navy blue of the voyage badge pinned to it.

“ not to be rude but your ship seemingly hides everything, that room is bare except for the bunks and the huge ass window looking out into space ”, dom continued. hope turned and walked to him whilst adjusting her belt. he seemingly took notice of her and jumped slightly. “ so if you could give better directions, we might be able to find it. ”

“ on the board of every bed, there’s storage space. if you tap against the board, it’ll open up and you’ll see all the medical kits and spare clothes and whatnot. maybe even the blankets that i keep stored just in case ”, the bounty hunter told him, exiting her room along with him and nodding towards where the rooms were. “ shouldn’t be too hard now, right? ”.

“ could have said it the first time ”, dom muttered under his breath. but hope chose to ignore it. seeing that he was walking away, she decided to say something before letting him go.

“ next time you decide you want to walk on me shirtless, knock. and pay me, i’m not a free sculpture at the museum ”, she called over to him and saw him throw a glare over his shoulder. hope chuckled amusingly, watching him disappear down the hall. “ asshole. ”

after that encounter, hope decided that it would be best to have a look around the ship to make sure all was working properly. checking the lounge, she found the t.v turned on and quinn listening to the news broadcast. the vending machines were on, many of the game tables were idle and ready to be used and mostly everything looked in place. deciding not to disturb quinn, hope left the lounge quickly.

then she checked the kitchen. all seemed to be in place, the dishwasher could be heard briefly but all was well. nothing out of place. and then after checking the basement and the storage space, hope decided to return to her navigation cabin. she recalled that the speed boost was happening in a couple of minutes, and the way enzo complained a while back that she should’ve told them when she was going to take off.

it would be best to warn them about the speed boost, just case they got a slight shock from it. and besides, as far as she was aware, they weren’t expecting it. so she tapped the intercom mic present on the side of her chair and pressed the announcement button.

“ listen up, everyone. in two minutes, nebula will use a speed boost. that inherently means that she’ll zoom in the direction of our friendly gas giant and when she does, you might feel a slight shake. and in case we suffer some wind turbulence, i suggest hanging onto something ”, hope told them. “ i will announce it just ten seconds before the real thing. i suggest preparing yourselves now. ”

perhaps they were aware of what a speed boost was, after all, they were pirates. but nebula’s engine had restored and she was faster than ever, especially with a speed boost. anyone with travel sickness may find themselves in a lot of trouble. it was why hope slipped on her seat-belt when the countdown came to fifty seconds.

and when the ten-second countdown came, she turned the intercom on once more with a smirk grazing her lips. her adrenaline rush always came from moments like these, where she truly felt like she was in control of something. even if it was a spaceship somewhere in the milkyway galaxy, it was still something she could control.

“ strap in, ladies and gentlemen. we’re now descending into jupiter. ”

time skip ﹏

every time hope enters the atmosphere of another planet, she always goes through a series of chills and goosebumps all over her body. it’s a thrilling experience to be stepping into territory they didn’t think they were able to reach a hundred years ago. but mankind had taken more than a step now, it had taken a leap. and now, humans had invaded other planets, setting up a dozen colonies and extracting resources and truly beginning to learn about the universe. the planets we used to see only through telescopes, now before our very eyes.

jupiter, unlike many planets in the solar system, did not have a solid ground like their home on earth. it was a gas giant, composed predominantly of hydrogen and helium in its atmosphere. so you may ask, how did mankind touch base here?

that’s simple; they didn’t touch anything.

through a lot of hard work, they had managed to set up the floating colony, held up by energy that can easily be generated from the very winds of the planet. and considering there was no oxygen, the colony was covered by a dome-like cover providing visitors with the oxygen they required. it was truly something out of a sci-fi movie.

but it was reality, humanity had really taken huge leaps into improving living standards around the galaxy. whole apartments and forms of accommodation were made and built to fit the humans born when the earth couldn’t take anymore. that’s why humans left in the first place. resources began to lack and human populations would not stop growing.

and that’s why huge colonies like j-colony take her breath away every time hope sees it. as nebula breached through the reds and oranges of jupiter, she thought the clouds were never going to clear. it was always storming season on this gas giant, but it never rained water like it did on earth. in actuality, it rained diamonds, so hope held her breath when small bits of crystals began to fall against the window she looked out of. of course, nebula could take practically anything. so it didn’t worry her too much, even though she would die if there were scratches on the window.

after shaking a bit, hope reeled the orientation stick back and forced nebula to lift up slightly instead of driving herself straight down. and soon enough, after about another minute of the diamond rain, her eyes brightened at the way the clouds cleared and there it stood, well, floated, j-colony.

it’s difficult to describe the appearance of j-colony without comparing it to the castle aincrad as it is depicted in that one anime you either love or hate. it was a floating metal structure that seemed completely resistant to the thundering winds trying to push it from its secured position. a floating city with many branches and other floating islands of metal scattered around. it was huge. it’s impossible to measure its size in numbers, it was simply enormous in every sense of the word.

“ nbla-43, do you have clearance to access the docks of j-colony? ”.

hope’s heart jumped in her chest as she respired out a sigh of relief, realizing that it was only the control and flight officers who were able to detect the arrival of every ship, even in ghastly weather conditions like these. they truly didn’t miss a thing, this stupid corporation.

“ yes. sending voyage inc identification details over ”, the bounty hunter exclaimed nervously, and then pressed a button. there were many buttons on the control panel, but she specifically chose a transmission option, sending the same details on the chip on her badge over through encrypted signals. usually, pirates wait around for someone to do something like hope is doing in order to reach out and swiftly snatch the details of a pilot. and upon acquiring these details, god knows what they’re capable of.

identity theft, to put it simply.

hope waited patiently for a reply and soon received one. “ thank you, hope. welcome to j-colony. please proceed to dock e, eastbound of the city ”, the voice seeped through and then disconnected, just like that. they were busy people, after all, accepting a dozen ships hourly.

just like that, hope sped nebula up and weaved in between many ships and other iron structures like communication towers and satellites, doing a fair lot of work to avoid damaging them. soon, she had reached the east docks. getting closer will startle you as you realize the city you were looking at was larger than you’d expected. hope felt like an ant even in the nebula in comparison to the size of this monolith. behemoth as it was, it was impossible not to feel intimidated by it all.

approaching the docks, hope saw many ships, of all editions and brands, parked, restoring their fuel or merely parked with pilots happily stepping out with relief on their expressions. the docks alone were immense and seemed to go on forever, but then she found a vacant space.

quickly, she parked nebula, allowing the folded iron legs to touch the ground and for the engine to relax.

“ hope, would you like to have my battery restored? ”, a.j’s voice swept through smoothly as the bounty hunter took off her belt and then rose from her chair. “ i’ll be idle but you have everything planned out, correct? ”.

“ ‘course. don’t worry, you can be idle for as long as it takes you to be fully recharged. see you later, sultry man ”, hope teased and chuckled when the idle jingle played, meaning that a.j would be inactive for a couple of hours. this usually causes her to panic because she doesn’t have the compass to guide her. but she had it all planned out. she had around an hour to be where she had to be, and she had paged for a hoverbike and from the movement that she heard outside, it was being brought to her.

so upon collecting all the required tools and her preferred weapon, she took the elevator down to the exit. she didn’t really care to tell the pirates that she was leaving, they already knew what they had to do and what the right thing to do was. if they went against it, it wouldn’t really be her fault. but she prayed that perhaps they would. that they would stay out of trouble.

the exit and entrance hatchet opened and nebula’s flight of stairs touched the ground. so hope descended the said staircase, taking a small inhale and exhale as she reminded her that all would be well. she’s been doing this for years. nothing could go wrong.

“ good evening, hope. we have your hoverbike here with us ”, a young fellow said as she approached. he wore the voyage uniform, a navy blue semi-formal jacket, and some decent black trousers. “ you said you’d need it for how long? ”.

“ for however long it takes me to catch a wanted criminal ”, hope replied simply, and then looked at the hoverbike. it was perhaps even sexier than her own spaceship, no offense to nebula. it’s difficult to describe the complex shape of the vehicle, but the lack of wheels and the smooth metal and details that it contained was something worth staring at. “ aww, you even chose the model i requested for. ”

“ we tend to show special treatment for prolific bounty hunters here. j-colony is huge, so hunting criminals here is perhaps the hardest thing we have to deal with. just know that we’re very pleased you decided to take up the bounty for crimson. he’s been running around causing mayhem for ages. we need him to go, immediately ”, the young man explained with a meager shrug.

“ uh-huh. right, well i won’t be gone for long. i’ve been hunting this guy done for ages. now, if you’ll excuse me ”, hope began and then found a helmet being handed to her. the lack of metal on it was concerning but the design was lovely, especially after realizing it contained a gps and map feature that would make things a whole lot better. “ oh, thanks. ”

“ take care, hope. ”

nodding, hope watched the young man walk away to make another delivery. she slipped on her fingerless gloves and pressed a sensor on her wrist, it would connect her with nebula and her status, making sure nothing has been damaged and that most importantly, that no one in there would leave. putting the helmet on, her vision wasn’t at all affected by the holographic map and compass that came up against the glass. it made everything feel proximate and precise, just what she wanted.

hope hummed and rose an eyebrow, impressed. it was clear that she was. in fact, she made a mental note to get her hands on a hoverbike herself. and a helmet exactly like this one.

“ well, let’s go, shall we? ”.

it didn’t take exactly too long for hope to get the hang of the controls on the hoverbike. as soon as her hands touched the handgrips, the engine seemed to roar to life and the rear end of the vehicle rose. hope gulped at the uncomfortable height in which it rose, but knew comfort was the last of her worries. she had fifty minutes to get where she had to be.

of course, being in a tense situation, hope needed to unwind. it was why before she even began to drive, she pulled up a song-player and typed in her needed track. especially in a situation like this. it’s not every day she can explore the j-colony. so might as well do it in style!

blinding lights by the weeknd, if that’s not a more appropriate track, she doesn’t know what is.

soon after starting the song, the hoverbike was moving. hope wrapped her fingers tightly around the handgrips as it moved. first, it moved from the docks, following blaring signs telling her of the directions she needed. the docks were enormous, but that’s when she spotted something which seemed like a high road in the distance, with vehicles passing frequently. approaching the said road, she looked towards both sides. one side led to the residence quarters, and the other towards the inner city.

and the inner city was where she had to be. so she dipped as soon as there was space to fit into the road. and gradually gaining speed, hope took a right and soon found herself flying through a clear, straight road that led directly under a bridge of some sort, it drove into the huge structure and hope wondered just how long it would take for her to exit these docks.

but it didn’t matter too much. she had time. and she was in a particularly good mood now. as worried as she was about those pirates, she needed to sort her priorities. the hoverbike was picking up speed as it now headed into a tunnel, the ceiling and walls decorated with white, neon lines which were probably there more for decoration rather than for avoiding accidents. it was like entering a dream sequence as her eyes followed the lengthy lights, she blinked maybe once or twice upon tearing up.

so she stared ahead instead, choosing not to stare for too long in case it damaged her eyes. her eyes flickered to the map. she had typed in the coordinates for the wanted location and it was a good ten minute ride from her. so she sped up, wanting to get there just in case crimson chose to come early.

the tunnel soon came to an end, and hope audibly gasped when light broke through and she found that the road cleared . . . no roof, no walls, but that’s when she saw the glass and realized the road had been enclosed by a tube of some sort. but it did a good job of making her believe that she was standing freely in jupiter’s atmosphere.

the orange and red clouds, the falling diamonds, it was a mixture of different elements that made for a lush painting of some sort. her eyes widened as they continued to gawk at the view, she saw lightning in the distance and her adrenaline bolted through her veins in an instant. oh, the idea of taking nebula on a ride near the great red spot . . . it was a suicide mission but it would satisfy her daredevil antics.

now picking up speed, hope weaved in between vehicles; buses, cars, more hoverbikes. her eyes flickered over a plastered ad on the side of a bus, a festival that would be taking place in j-colony. she wondered whether she would be able to come, it might be fun . . . but the world was calling and she couldn’t ignore it.

the road carried on for miles and miles, her eyes were aching from the many tunnels she continued to travel through until the exit of the last tunnel gave birth to perhaps the most beautiful sight hope has ever seen.

j-colony was the definition of metropolis heaven. the skyscrapers were too tall for her to observe with her eyes alone, a crane of the head was required to see every light from every skyscraper scattered among this landscape painting of dreams. enormous billboards were planted on the side of buildings, advertising all sorts of things. from food to the newest model of honda’s jet shoes, it was endless.

hope saw purples and reds and yellows and blues, even some colors which she can’t even name. but she knew one thing, they were beautiful. that’s when she noticed people. they walked on side-walks, on the bridges hung over this insane road, normal people accustomed to a world of dazzling lights.

it was so vibrant and colorful that hope didn’t even realize she had to take a sharp turn to the left until the map’s red dot began to beep. “ oh, shit! ”, she cursed and swiftly indicated before cutting left, hearing various beeps behind her but she didn’t think to apologize. she sighed, that’s what happens when you get caught up in the beauty of cities like these.

cutting left, she took another main road but that’s when she began to see things that were expected. shops, dozens of shops with neon lights inviting guests in with obscure shop names. hope saw shopping malls, cinemas, game centers, arcades, it seemed to go on forever and ever. and to be fair, she never wanted it to stop.

hope looked to the top corner to her helmet and saw that she was getting closer to her red spot, her required location. so she sped up, not wanting to waste any time. humming along to the song that would soon be coming to an end, she cut a right and then another right and soon, she had reached what seemed to be a shopping district, with a towering fountain in the middle of it. of course, she couldn’t take the bike there so she had to find a parking spot. and it didn’t take too long for that to happen.

upon parking, she turned the engine off and craned her head up for a hot second, just to view the nearby skyscraper whose billboard was playing an a.i advertisement, one recommending owners to give a.i’s appearances, but upon seeing the price of the installments, hope chose to go without.

so, now she had arrived at her target location. seeing around, she realized that it wouldn’t be too easy to spot crimson even if he was wearing the most camp outfit imaginable.

except, upon checking her notes, she had spotted that crimson tended to wear obscure hair colors, ranging from bright reds to blues and greens. but looking around, most people tended to do that as well. so she hoped that perhaps she would be able to recognize a suspicious figure with some bizarre hair color and assume it’s the guy she’s looking for.

and without a.j’s company, she was forced to wait patiently. her thoughts drifted to the pirates for a moment, wondering just what they were doing and imagining them doing anything else but going against her orders. they weren’t stupid, so perhaps they would be smart enough to dodge trouble.

but what if they went directly against her orders? what then? something in her bones told that it was too ambitious to trust those pirates. that she was being too optimistic and that she had more reasons to get rid of them than to keep them around. for years, she’s been riding solo and has prevented catastrophic, career-ending events because she never allowed herself to trust anyone or work alongside anyone.

she was throwing her trust on the table, but now she wished to withdraw it.

hope suddenly felt something against her wrist vibrate. her tracker had scanned the area and found someone fitting crimson’s profile, something she had set it to do automatically in case she got distracted by something else. and by the looks of things, that just happened. she got distracted by her worries over the pirates.

looking at her helmet map, she spotted a blue dot. and it was moving, closer to her and the fountain that she was looking directly. her stomach dropped when she spotted a male, she couldn’t exactly tell how old but he was young, his way of walking was with plenty of confidence, something she found odd. but that’s when she spotted the bubblegum blue hair and the mouth-mask he’d chosen to wear. a red mask.

and as they say, everyone criminal is vain enough to have an item of identification. her blood was suddenly boiling as she lifted herself from the hoverbike and looked at this walking figure, he threw a glance over his shoulder and upon reeling his head back, he seemed to have locked eyes with the bounty hunter.

hope didn’t look away.

and neither did he.

except for when he took off running. and hope bolted, jumping to her feet and beginning to chase after the fleeing criminal. her feet were aching to get some exercise, and quite frankly, as much as she hated running, she felt like she was going to like it as soon as she gets her hands on this fool.

he was weaving in between the crowd, but her tracker remained on him, so she didn’t think to remove her helmet anytime soon. and in case she needed to, she could summon the hoverbike quickly to speed up the chase.

at some point during the chase, hope was right on his ass. and she didn’t know why she didn’t grab him or just shoot him, it was probably because she didn’t want to assassinate this guy in the middle of the public eye. she wasn’t the type to disrupt established ways of living. and life in the j-colony had a happy buzz, one which she didn’t wish to spoil.

but she still needed this fool dead.

she didn’t recall how long it took but soon, they were out of the public eye as he dipped into an alleyway and hope continued to give chase after him, mostly because she was so close to getting what she finally wanted and needed it to be a clean kill. otherwise, it wouldn’t be over. of course, the alleyway a dead end.

and crimson turned, his eyes wide and angry. “ you’re fitter than the last one who chased me. which was around . . . a day ago ”, his voice was deep, harnessing power and heart but there was a sense of sarcasm to it that she couldn’t help but like. “ uh, you’re here to arrest me, right? ”.

“ being arrested stopped being an option the last time, in which, i believe, you broke out of police custody and managed to hide in the city and hold out until the storm passed. impressive, but i’m not here to arrest you ”, with that, hope pulled out her pistol and with a click, held it towards the criminal. “ i am here to claim the reward for your bounty. ”

and his face went pale. why he wasn’t fighting back was unbeknownst to her. and so she was careful because it was suspicious. “ o-oh. well, uh, i hadn’t planned my death until a couple of years time but i suppose . . . i should give in ”, he spoke and hope decided that this guy was way too stupid to be a criminal.

but then she heard something behind her. a beeping of some sort. and her eyes widened. going into an alleyway with a dead-end, the fact that he wasn’t fighting back, the beeping of what seemed to be an explosive device.

her heart dropped. it was a trap.

hope gasped and ducked for cover and the spark lit and before she knew it, boom! right behind her. she felt the heat against her back and saw the smoke rise but even through it, she could spot crimson breaching for an escape using jet boots. but he wasn’t getting away, not like that!

she aimed up and fired a ray, one which just barely hit his left shoe and even through ringing ears, she could hear him scream. and it was a loud one. she watched him begin to descend and eventually meet the ground again, but then she heard chatter through the smoke and bit her lip. if it was the authorities, she was in for a good scolding. and she hadn’t even killed her target yet!

hope groaned and slowly picked herself up, her skin was scorching from the heat and she could barely breathe through the smoke. but then it began to clear, slowly. and then she saw figures emerging, the owners of the chatter.

oh, how her blood began to boil when the pirates showed up.

she couldn’t believe it! she didn’t even have to be told what had happened because she could almost just assume. they had set up explosives, explosives when she was still in the alleyway. and it didn’t even kill her target because even he saw the explosive. and he dodged it and tried to flee! ugh!

“ i know, i know, thank me later. you got him, right? ”, enzo spoke first, arms wide with an overbearing amount of confidence. but when he spotted her barely able to pick herself off the ground, his face fell. “ uhm. ”

“ you didn’t ”, the criminal himself voiced, grunting and picking himself up. “ i mean, bounty hunter girl, if these guys are your teammates, i suggest getting better ones, the explosive was so obvious, seriously. it doesn’t take a second pair of eyes to even see it! ”.

“ they’re not my teammates ”, hope growled, head hanging low as she tried to stand up, her muscles were aching for rest but she refrained from caving into the pain.

“ ah, that explains it. well, uh, if they’re not your teammates, you won’t mind if they’re gone, right? ”. she barely had time to furrow her brows in a frown when crimson pulled out a gun and suddenly fired a bullet up, hope yelped and covered her ears when she realized that he hadn’t fired mistakenly. he had fired at something.

another explosive.

hearing the pirates react and take cover, she caught sight of crimson before he started to run. and she threw herself at his feet, latching her arms around his legs and sending him plummeting down to the bare, concrete ground. she held him down as best as she could, searching for her gun but it didn’t come to hand.

oh god, her gun!

she grunted when he started to get up again, his feet fighting and kicking and she craned her head back to avoid receiving a boot to the face. she managed to hold him down long enough to reach for the knife attached to a harness around her leg, letting it out of its sheath.

except before she even dared to deliver a mighty blow, she felt an elbow meet the side of her head and her vision went for a moment, blurred and confused, her sense of orientation haywire. but hope fought to remain conscious, she couldn’t let a criminal escape!

yelling, she grasped her knife, propelled and stabbed downward. all she heard was a fatal roar of anguish from the crook beneath her, and even with a stab wound, he persevered. but then she delivered a stab near the chest and another cry rung out. and upon stabbing a final time, a wavering howl was heard.

and beneath her, crimson went limp.

hope let out a loud breath and dropped the bloodied knife, and then realized the warm substance that covered her hands. blood. crimson red, covering each finger without failure. her stomach churned, her squeamish antics ticking and her vision continuing to blur with each passing second.

she was going to faint, she thought, but something in her kept on fighting, mostly the growing feeling of success after she realized this crook was finally dead and that she could alert the authorities. but she couldn’t do it now.

her eyes, hooded and seething with rage, rose to meet that of the figures who came out from behind the hiding spots. her blood was beginning to boil all over again, adrenaline pumping and her murderous ego willing to take hold again.

but she kept herself from lashing out. for now.

“ you. you, you, you and you. back to the ship. right. fucking. now. ”

#chapter 3 #space pirates au #writing #original writing

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leximpwrites · 4 years

Text

Seeker 2

The second chapter of the project I’m working on! After this, I will be posting new chapters at least once a week, but as I said in an earlier post, if I get possessed by a writing gremlin and bang out three chapters in a week, then that’s how many you’ll get! Lol As always, I love to hear what y’all think, so please feel free to leave a reply!

@officialleehadan @kitvinslakte @nox919 @dierotenixe @stuck-in-theclouds @gyvorn12 @apenvssword @wildforestferret @krceramics @starsdreaming @wordsdreaming

We eat at the Silver Star. Its one of the few taverns in the city that understands how much food a Skeer needs to eat, and feeds us well. After, we head back up the hill in the general direction of the Seeker barracks. I've never liked that name; it sounds so military and austere. The reality is much different.

Our barracks are a sprawling estate in Hightower that provides all the space we need to live, train, and study. After centuries of Seeker occupation, the estate is appointed with luxuries from all over the world, carried home by the Seekers who live here. I've added many myself, in fact. Call it sentimentality, but there's something to be said for making a place feel like home.

And if anyone is touchy about our owning the place, well, it's no more than we're due, if you ask me. We put our lives on the line every day for the sake of the people. I'd say a little luxury isn't an unreasonable reward.

We make our way through the wrought iron gate and head up the gravel path. All around us, fellow Seekers go about their business. The salle and training yards are off to our left. I share a nod with the weaponmaster on our way past, but don't keep his attention as he barks orders. There are more than a dozen foundlings drilling under his watchful eye, their purity charms glittering under the light of the torches. To our right, the riding fields and the stables where we breed and raise the huge striders that Seekers use in place of horses.

“Shall I come with you to report, sir?” Jax asks, pausing inside the grand entryway after we walk through the immense bronze doors. I shake my head.

“No, that’s alright, lad,” I tell him. “I’ll report to the Old Wolf for the both of us. You go take care of your gear and then get yourself a bath.” He nods and smiles gratefully, heading off in the direction of his rooms in the east wing, whistling an old farmer’s tune. I turn and head in the opposite direction, towards the marshal's office in the east wing

The floor is carpeted with deep black, the wood paneling of the walls a rich walnut, polished smooth. The place always smells clean, with hints of incense, woodsmoke, and the oils we use to clean our weapons. Shelves piled high with scrolls and books of all kinds line the walls at regular intervals. If there is a system for their organization, it’s not one that I’ve ever seen before.

“Enter!” comes the gruff order when I knock politely, and I step through the door before coming to attention and saluting sharply, right fist over my hearts.

“Sir,” I say, looking at a point just over the head of High Marshal Imtaral. “Seeker Second Class, Alchanic reporting in.”

“At ease, Zepara,” he says distractedly, and I immediately relax offer a smile.

Djared Imtaral was my mentor back when I was the same age as Jax, and I credit much of my success and skill to the lessons he taught me. He’s known among the Seekers as “The Old Wolf”, and it’s a very apt moniker. He looks like one. An old, tired, grey wolf, though one that is still more than capable of putting the young pups around it in their places. He’s nearly three hundred years old now, and may well hold his post for another sixty years or so before he retires, barring mishap or illness. He trained scores of us over the years. I was his last apprentice before our previous High Marshal, Lord Barray, retired and Imartal took his place.

As always, his desk, an old wooden monstrosity he keeps threatening to burn, is covered in papers. He has half a dozen piles before him, and a larger stack at his right hand. Some he sets aside, and others get a quick, scrawling signature.

Some he glares at, hoping they might simply burst into flames and leave him in peace.

My old teacher does not like paperwork.

“So, how is the youngster doing?” he asks me, gesturing to one of the chairs across from him with his pen. “Luteno, is it?”

“Jaxus Luteno, yes,” I confirm, taking a seat “We found a shade nest that had recently taken root in the Whitebone District of the Outer Ring. Completely purged, got the queen and the nest guard all in one go. I let him take the lead on it, and I’m proud to say that he did spectacularly.”

“Do you think he’s ready for advancement?” he asks, shuffling through the stack of papers on his desk, absently reading and signing off on things as we’re talking. "I've kept an eye on his progress, and he seems to be doing very well."

I consider his question for a few moments before replying. “I would say that it wouldn’t be inappropriate to advance him.”

“But?” he prods, raising an inquisitive brow at me.

“But I would feel less uneasy if we gave it a little more time,” I admit, feeling a little uncomfortable. “It’s not that I have any doubts about his skill, it’s that I’m worried I may not have taught him everything that he needs to know.”

Imtaral chuckles, giving me a look that is both sympathetic and proud at the same time. “Welcome to the reality of being a teacher, my young friend. We just do the best we can and hope that it’s enough.”

I sag into my seat. He's right. I know he's right. I don't even disagree with him, but... Jax is my first apprentice, and I want to make sure I don't screw him up.

“However,” he continues, recapturing my wandering focus. “Yours is not an uncommon sentiment, so I will do what has been done numerous times before now. I will authorize him to advancement from Initiate to Seeker First Class, and assign him as your partner from this point forward until we have need of him elsewhere. Will that suit you?”

I breath out a quiet sigh of relief and nod, feeling a profound rush of gratitude towards my old mentor. “That will do fantastically, sir,” I say, getting to my feet and saluting again. “With your leave, oh wisest of leaders, I would like to go and give the good news to my apprentice and then get out of this gear and into a bath.”

He laughs and flaps a hand at me. “Go, you rogue, out of my sight before I have you thrown into the dungeons!”

I grin as I turn to leave. “You don’t have a dungeon, master.”

“Then I’ll have one built just for you!” he calls after me as I exit his office, completing the old joke between us.

I snicker to myself and head off down the hall to find Jax so I can deliver the good news.

*******************

Three weeks later, and we finally receive our first assignment. During this time, Jax and I have been patrolling the city, mainly in the Outer Ring. He's been doing well since his promotion to Seeker First Class, now more confident in his abilities than he has ever been before. He's an excellent partner; we work well together, and he's bold enough now to make his own decisions, while still being smart enough to defer to my greater level of experience when I offer advice.

I'm proud of him.

My only qualm is that I still haven't gotten him to stop calling me 'sir'. As soon as he gets distracted, he slips back into his old habits, and the 'sir' comes back.

I guess I shouldn't judge. I do it to Imtaral, myself.

A message runner finds us on our way out of an apothecary, having just finished putting down a stalker that the idiot was keeping for fresh ingredients. Naturally, it got loose and killed him along with three of his customers.

"Why would someone think that was a good idea?" Jax complains, wiping his silver-edged broadsword clean of viscera under a nearby fountain. He's limping; the stalker managed to get in a good bite on his calf. "Graaah that stings! Of course it got loose! It's a bloody stalker!"

Stalker venom is nasty stuff, able to kill a normal human in minutes. Seekers are highly resistant to poison though, so he’s not in any danger of dying. He will, however, be miserable for the next few days while the venom works its way out of his body.

I chuckle and pat him on the shoulder. "You did well in there," I say, crouching down next to him and inspecting the wound on his leg while pulling my aid kit out of my coat. Seeker long-coats are quite possibly my favorite piece of gear besides my coach-gun, Sophia. Essentially a collection of pockets sewn into a knee-length overcoat, the heavy leather is treated with both oil and magic to repel water, acid, and insects. Strips of fine chainmail sewn into the sleeves, shoulders, and chest offer protection that I've needed more often than I like to admit.

A tap on my shoulder makes me turn, one hand going to my blades as I curse myself for my own distraction. When a young page jumps away from me, eyes round with fear, I curse again and bare my empty hands to reassure him.

"Sorry, lad, I didn't hear you," I say gently with an apologetic smile, keeping my hands where he can see them. He's more startled than properly afraid, but I take care to keep from frightening him again. Gods above, but we must be a sight after dealing with the blasted stalker. "We just finished a nasty fight in there, so I'm still a little keyed up."

The boy nods once and grins, showing two missing teeth. "Aye, sirrah, no harm done," he says, then holds out his mark book. "Gots a message for ye here, if'n ye'll sign for't."

I scribble down my signature and hand him back the book along with two silver regents, which he takes with a pleased grin.

"Thankee, sirrah!" he says with delight, and hands me the tightly furled message scroll. "Ye be have'n a good day now!" He gives me a little salute with two fingers and then dashes off up the street to deliver his next message.

I unroll the parchment and quickly scan the contents. What I read chills me. Jax picks up on my mood instantly.

"Trouble, sir?" he asks, more curious than concerned.

"Aye, trouble," I agree, catching his attention. Without preamble, I hand him the scroll as I return to dealing with his leg.

"By order of High Marshal Djared Imtaral, Commander of Imperial Seeker Operations," Jax reads aloud. "Seeker Second Class Zepara Alchanic and Seeker First Class Jaxus Luteno are hereby ordered to proceed with all haste to the city of Strovostgard. A high priority target has been identified in the area. You are to rendezvous with an additional five Seeker teams that have been dispatched and then report to Deputy Marshal Singaren. Additional details will be made available upon arrival."

Jax's eyes have gone round with surprise, and he turns to look at me. "Six Seeker teams, including us? Depending on the size of the team, that's anywhere from twelve to sixteen of us! The amount of force that many Seekers could bring to bear–" He trials off.

I nod grimly, tying off the bandage with a careful tug.

"What on earth could require so many of us?" he says quietly, more to himself than to me, but I answer him anyway, knowing that he's badly shaken at the thought of such a dangerous creature. I know I sure as hell was, the first time.

"The worst kind of monster a Seeker can face," I tell him, getting to my feet and collecting my gear. "Come. This isn't the kind of thing to talk about in the street. Let's head back to the barracks and I'll tell you about the kind of creature that can haunt a Seeker's nightmares."

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romeulusroy · 6 years

Text

Memories (Steve Rogers Drabble)

Character/s: Steve, Bucky mention

Word Count: 639

Inspired By: Ocean Eyes by Billie Eilish

A/N: It's been a while since I've written for fun, hope it's not too bad! 💜

He promised he wouldn't come back for you, made him, forced him to. James never said he wouldn't tell him. He didn't know, had no idea. You could feel it, watching him, his eyes shift, blame broke him. Lived with so much guilt, how much more could he carry?

They told you it wasn't really love. Reassured you, at one point it used to be. It used to breathe and thrive and live, but no one could ever love you like this, not like this. Deformed. Damaged. Dangerous. No one could ever love a weapon. Bullets and bombs could not be hugged. They used him against you. A great weakness, fantastic motivator to obey orders and do as you were told. Rewards came through those eyes, the image of his jaw tightening, clenching. Always under their watch. Visiting an old friend. Your old friend.

It's been years. Erased so many times. The people around you aged. Wrinkles, grey hairs, all the things you'd looked forward to with him. Til death do you part, the both of you granted more time than you deserved, wanted, most apart. You couldn't wait for that day. The first line in his face, imprinted from smiling, from laughing. Took him as he was. Small, but mighty. Driven to serve his country, to be a good husband. Married, though not technically. Forever fiancés. He wanted to wait, after the war ended. Somehow it never did, not for you.

No family. Hydra had James. Missing in action. Steve preserved. Dead. It was only you. No one else on your side. A perfect candidate. Your mind cleaned, left empty and polished, shiny. Their soldier became a success, why not do it twice? Make it better the second time around? So, that's what they did.

To this day you still ached for him. Wipe, rinse, repeat. Everything reminded you of him. Unavoidable. The blonde man you were sent to kill. His blue eyes not as startling. How he and the guards carried themselves, so proudly. Heads held high. Identical sleepy smiles when the drugs kicked in. Words, phrases, mannerisms. They tried, but he was everywhere.

In another life you could have been together. A real couple with a real future. A sweet house full of all the things you couldn't have now. He came looking for you, not long after. Wherever he went, he found nothing more than what he thought of you. Ashes. Long gone. Burned away. All of those from your past together, you couldn't blame him for thinking your story ended far earlier, in the past. James came, too. There were others. A new family. Not replacements, just more to love. Good, he needed it.

Always a step ahead to your relief. You could handle this, had been for a while. Not him. Not again. Drilled into your head, maybe. Or, the build up of self doubt and hatred. Either way, this was no way to face him. Before, there wasn't this sense. A terrible feeling inside Steve would be dissapointed. In himself, in you, the list was endless. Someone he'd been ready to marry was unrecognizable. How coukd one face change so much without actually aging?

You couldn't tell him how proud of him you are, how badly you want him - the both of them - to move on, to stop looking fir you. In every crowded street, train, through every open window, expecting you show up as he had: weaoon in hand. Too easy. There was no way they'd let you get away. One gone, too much of a risk to let you near them, so you settled for the screens, the pictures, old videos. At least then you didn't have to see him now, hanging on to the ring he was going to propose with as soon as the war ended.

#writing #steve rogers #steve rogers drabble #steve rogers oneshot #captain america #captain america drabble #captain america oneshot #avengers #avengers drabble #avengers oneshot #marvel #marvel drabble #marvel oneshot #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #x reader #gender neutral x reader #drabble #oneshot

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thewardensjournal · 6 years

Text

The Warden is laughing at her, and Morrigan stands, arms crossed and waiting impatiently for her to stop. Melisende wipes tears from the corners of her eyes and looks at Morrigan, still grinning with her mirth.

“Thanks, Morrigan, I really needed that,” she says earnestly. “Were you waiting here just to tell me a joke, though?”

“T’was not in jest,” Morrigan says through gritted teeth.

Melisende stares at her, grin morphing into a tight-lipped look of disapproval. “I know you and Alistair don't get on, but this is a bit much just to get one over on him. He might die tomorrow, it's not in good taste.”

“I told you,” Morrigan snaps, throwing her hands up and turning away from Melisende. “This way, neither of you have to die.”

“I'm not going to make Alistair fuck you so that you can take up a pet project of raising an Old God,” Melisende says firmly, striding towards the bed and ridding herself of her leather armour.

Morrigan turns back to glare at her, but the effect is lost as Melisende isn't looking at her. “Finally found some morals, did you?” She asks, tone cold. “Did the old woman force them on you? Or, if you're truly insistent on protecting Alistair after what he said to you, Loghain would also be serviceable.” She can see Melisende’s face reflected in a polished shield above the bed, her expression locked in a scowl, like it always is when someone questions her for too long.

“I told you: no. I won't force that on Alistair, he doesn't need that kind of baggage when he's about to become king. And you can't use Loghain either.” Now, Melisende does turn, jabbing a finger at Morrigan. “I'm a Grey Warden. My duty is to rid the world of Archdemons, not create more.”

“T'is not an Archdemon-"

“But it could become one,” Melisende interrupts.

Morrigan can't argue that, she crosses her arms again and resists the urge to stamp her foot at how unreasonable Melisende is being.

“Besides.” Melisende pulls a clean shirt over her head and glances over her shoulder at Morrigan, who makes a point of fixing her eyes anywhere else. “I have an idea for dealing with the Archdemon.”

Sometimes, it's easy to forget how sharp Melisende is, how she could control a court before she could wield her twin blades. Too late, Morrigan realises she's shown her cards too soon. She had wondered, briefly, at how Melisende remained silent as she made her case for her ritual, how she pushed only for information about the Archdemon, how Morrigan, like a fool, had revealed so much because she thought she had her.

You always assume you know best, foolish child. Flemeth’s voice gave the unwelcome reminder whilst Melisende watched her patiently.

“What is your plan?” Morrigan asks, sighing heavily, then holds up a hand as Melisende begins to answer. “Save your tongue.” She pushes past her to the door. “Pray to your precious Maker that yours does not kill all the people t'was meant to save.”

At that, Morrigan makes to leave, but Melisende moves fast and silent and catches her elbow. Their eyes lock, and Morrigan recalls the first time they met, the Warden recruit making reckless jokes about Witches of the Wilds, and their second meeting, Melisende struggling from unconsciousness, meeting Morrigan’s eyes to thank her with startling sincerity. She clears her throat and glances away, hoping to show a cold fury, but Melisende doesn't look away.

“I want you at my side tomorrow,” she says.

Morrigan doesn't- can't, reply, but she gives a stiff nod and Melisende smiles like she knew she'd get her way. She wonders, as she runs from Redcliffe, what Melisende made of the sound of claws on flagstones outside her door. Whether she thought Taranis had left Leliana's side to come find her, whether she thought it was a cat chasing mice. Morrigan wonders how long it took Melisende to realise they would never be sisters in arms again.

Melisende had spent the night with Leliana, and, though she wants to, Morrigan can't really fault her for it. But, there is a sight that surprises her. She passes by the door to their shared room, open as though they had also been ready to leave. Both are armoured, she sees, weapons at their sides, but they are arguing. Melisende pushes a familiar shield and longsword at Leliana, who refuses to take them.

Morrigan had thought Melisende had secreted her Cousland weapons, that she had clutched so desperately when waking in Flemeth's hut, with the Drydens at Soldier’s Peak. It seems she was mistaken.

With a choked sob, Leliana accepts the shield, places it carefully on the bed, and straps the sword to her back, despite how it must fit awkwardly next to her longbow.

Melisende steps forward and clasps her hands, whispering something Morrigan can't- won't hear.

She runs away, leaves for good.

It surprises her, at first, the group Melisende chooses to fight the Archdemon with her, when she hears the tale retold. She picks her court carefully. Loghain, Shale, and her hound, Taranis. She leaves Sten to lead the army holding the gates.

(It shouldn't surprise Morrigan that she took the dog with her, she insisted on bringing him to the Landsmeet, too.)

It is cruel of her, though. Shale is Melisende's favourite, it's clear to see. Shale rumbles something dry and bored and Melisende throws her head back and laughs until tears show in the corners of her eyes. Of course, Shale can't smile, but there is a fondness always in their voice for Melisende. It is cruel that she would make them watch.

Cruel, too, to leave Sten behind. Sten, who must understand duty better than any of them. Sten, who rivals maybe Morrigan herself in terms of being cold and standoffish and in sheer reluctance to be with the group. Sten, who Melisende tracked down a sword for in between rallying a nation, play-acting at not knowing the significance such weapons can hold.

Morrigan thinks again of the Cousland sword, glinting on Leliana's back, and wonders what Sten thought when he saw it. Wonders if he understood Melisende's plan.

It's cruel to leave him, when she made him care against his will.

As for Morrigan. She knows cruelty, was raised on it, but it steals her breath away that Melisende can be cruel uncompromisingly.

(She thinks of werewolves and elves in the Brecilian Forest and Melisende damning a group of suffering, hurting beings simply because she understood Zathrian's pain so well, and thinks perhaps she shouldn't be surprised. After all, she didn't care then.)

(But then, Melisende had turned and talked Zathrian into letting her kill him, too. Morrigan had wondered whether that was a Cousland form of justice, or Melisende's own special brand.)

Melisende can be cruel, but she is saving the world, and Morrigan can't be too angry.

She leaves the soft ones behind, the ones who feel too much so that it overwhelms them. The moral ones, the ones she brought with her in a quest for the Urn of Sacred Ashes, just to keep her from doing something radical.

Morrigan is still half surprised that the old woman isn't taken. Then again, their foolish Warden clearly doesn't believe she'll need a healer, because there was no way her plan could have fault. Besides, Morrigan always suspected that Melisende found Wynne's incessant advice more irritating than comforting.

“You are bringing your hound,” Sten says. From anyone else it would be a question, from him it is an inquiry if Melisende wishes it to be.

“Yes,” Melisende replies, spitting blood from her mouth, and from the look on her face she isn't sure if it's hers.

Zevran joins them, the wave of darkspawn finished for now. “That's very Fereldan of you,” he observes, grin quick.

“The bards can write it in as an afterthought,” Melisende says, grinning herself. “The Grey Warden slays the Archdemon whilst her faithful mabari chases its tail.”

“He is a fearsome warrior,” Sten disagrees, and Taranis barks and jumps up to lick his gauntleted hand.

“Then he'll make up for Loghain,” Melisende says, eliciting a snort from Shale, and the group glances to where Loghain stands to the side. “More importantly, we need to move now. The five of you stay here and hold the gates.”

And that's that. Melisende turns to the group and doesn't quite smile, but a smirk tugs on her lips. “Remember, the only reward we get for winning today is our lives.”

At least, that's how Morrigan imagines it might have gone.

According to the bards, the battle drags on, they remain standing, though on shaky legs. Then, like a thunder clap from a storm long overdue, Melisende acts.

The warning signs, like gathering storm clouds and enclosing humidity, are clear to Morrigan only after the fact. Shale hurls a particularly well-aimed boulder and catches the Archdemon in the eye. Its head swings around to glower at the golem, and when it does, distracted, Loghain plunges his sword into its foot. There's a whistle, and Taranis plows forward, scattering darkspawn and clearing a path.

She had been attacking from behind, letting Loghain and Shale and those who fought under her command take the blows whilst she waited for the smart moment to make a move. Morrigan imagines her leaping the Archdemon's tail as it thrashes erratically. Next moment, she's running up the Archdemon’s back, arms spread wide for balance.

The Archdemon lurches, trying to shake her off, but in the form of Melisende, lightning strikes.

Somehow, she kept her footing on the Archdemon. Her pace quickens to a sprint, she pushes off her back leg and launches herself in an arc towards the Archdemon’s head. Both blades raised, trailing blood in the smoky sky. She lands, uses her momentum to drive the blades into the eye sockets of the Archdemon.

The battle rages around them. No one stops, no one stares, whilst the world fights, the companions watch.

Melisende trembles, wobbles, atop the Archemon, hands still wrapped around her blades. The leviathan rears up, a howling, screeching, keening roar torn from its mouth. As the Archdemon shudders and collapses, the story goes that Melisende hopped neatly away, landing to face Loghain. An exchange of words that even the bards can't repeat, an expectation and agreement understood and Melisende steps back as Loghain snatches King Maric's sword and settles Maric's shield on his arm; both gifts from the Warden for reasons the bards can only speculate on.

The dust and debris that hangs in the air from the shockwave of the Archdemon’s fall is blinding. For all his bulk in his armour, Loghain looks like a shadow as he drags the sword through the Archdemon's throat, stabs up into its heart.

A blinding light, the bards say the Empress in Orlais and the magisters in Tevinter could see it. Amidst the shrieks of darkspawn and the cheers of armies, the shroud of light falls and reveals the bodies of the Archdemon and Loghain, battle done and day won.

At this part, the bards begin to celebrate the Hero of Ferelden's triumph, but Morrigan imagines what happened next.

Melisende would have gathered Loghain's arms, once Maric's, carrying them along with her own. Shale would have picked up his body with a nod from Melisende. Taranis would have bounced around his mistress, she, out of habit, would have checked him for scrapes and wounds and, satisfied, would have gestured for them to follow her. A cursory check on Eamon, Irving and Ardol, her other allies, and then the long trek back to the gates. Perhaps she caught sight of Teagan on the way, perhaps she searched for her brother out of some fractional hope still alive in her chest.

She would have been overjoyed to find her companions at the gates alive and well. Would have hugged Zevran, kissed Leliana. Wrapped an arm around Oghren, maybe grinned at Wynne. She and Sten would have nodded at each other from a slight distance, then she would have grinned and mocked a salute at him, at which point he would have turned his attention to Taranis.

But she would have asked after the King and Queen, still Alistair and Anora then. She would have had to make sure her plan had worked, that all pieces were in play and in their places. However furious Alistair was with her, however conniving Anora might seem, Morrigan thinks Melisende would have cared out of pragmatism if nothing else.

The bards love the next part, the listing of the Hero's achievements. The new King given to Orzammar, safety for the Dalish, a strong leader for Denerim's alienage, Andraste's ashes rediscovered, Grey Wardens restored and a King and Queen to herald a new era for Ferelden.

Morrigan thinks only of the girl she knew. Facing Flemeth and winning simply because Morrigan asked it of her. Winning a life for each of her companions because she was so determined to win the Blight that she forced them all to plan for the times after. She thinks of a girl with her family killed in front of her who made revenge her mission and was not satisfied until she took everything and more from the man responsible.

(Months later, Morrigan hears that Melisende took the young Nathaniel Howe and raised him to the status of Grey Warden to redeem his family's name, to the bemusement of everyone around her, and thinks that fits.)

She thinks of the girl who sent a dwarf to the Circle simply to learn, who returned an acorn to a talking tree, and who robbed the nobility for all they were worth simply because she could.

This is where the bards get bored and gossip takes over.

It's told that Melisende didn't linger in Denerim. She left Alistair to settle in after the celebrations ceased, the two of them resolved to remain friends. She saw Oghren off on the way to Lake Calenhad to find Felsi again, and was at the docks a day later with Sten, Zevran, Shale, Wynne, and, of course, Leliana. Melisende convinced Shale and Wynne, because no one could refuse her, to take the long way round to Tevinter by sea, stopping off at Par Vollen on the way.

One less, the group continued to Tevinter until they were down to three. Morrigan wonders if Melisende enjoyed the relative anonymity, both of not being called “Hero” or “Cousland”. There was a brief foray into Orlais, Morrigan assumes it was Leliana's idea, until it seems some semblance of duty drew Melisende back to the east. That was where Zevran left them, perhaps returning to Antiva, or maybe striking out for new lands altogether.

They stayed in Highever for a few months, Melisende rebuilding and showing Leliana the remains of her home, or so Morrigan assumes. Perhaps they ate dinner with Fergus every night, perhaps Leliana sat back and read whilst Melisende and Fergus bickered and caught up, or maybe they sat silent as Leliana wove yarns for them to listen to late into the evening.

Six months, all told, of Melisende being something other than a Grey Warden. Perhaps she found relief in being called to duty as Warden-Commander at Vigil's Keep, or was she reluctant to leave her rediscovered domesticity and home? That was where Leliana left, recalled by the Chantry with promises that she wouldn't be long, but both of them had their roles to play.

With that, the gossip ends and the reports begin. Reports on the Wardens at Vigil's Keep, reports on the new Warden-Commander settling into her role.

In the end, what Morrigan remembers is a young noblewoman and her mabari hound, trudging through Ferelden with a transient, ragtag group. Time brings all things around, and that is what Melisende remains.

#cousland warden #dao #leliana #warden/leliana #alistair theirin #wynne #shale #sten #morrigan #oghren #zevran #my writing #the whole gangs here laddies and genitals #melisende cousland

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quicksilversquared · 6 years

Text

Plagg and The Butterfly Costume: Ch. 3

Plagg is willing to do a lot in order to get more cheese. When he's spotted one too many times en route to the kitchen, he decides that a disguise is in order. One purple costume later, and Plagg is free to flit down to the kitchen without people thinking that he's a rat. And then he gets caught.

(Ch. 1) (2)

(AO3) (FF.net)

After a quick nap (he deserved it, after all), Plagg cautiously headed for Mr. Agreste's office. He wasn't there, which was a little surprising. Nathalie was, though, so Plagg carefully skirted around the room (through the wall, which was gross and dusty and musty and this was why he left the detective-ing to Tikki and Wayzz and the others). He ignored the safe for now- he could inspect it whenever- and instead dove through the floor to follow the passage from the floor-elevator down, over, and then up towards Hawkmoth's lair.

Hawkmoth's occupied lair.

Plagg lurked in the shadows behind Hawkmoth, careful not to disturb any of the butterflies. Hawkmoth looked agitated and on edge, clutching his staff- or, rather, the thin sword that had apparently been hidden in the staff.

...okay, yeah, that would definitely do some damage if that hit Ladybug or Chat Noir. Plagg made a mental note to mention it to Adrien. That would be a nasty surprise if it came into play in the middle of a fight.

"I would have thought that they would have attacked by now," Hawkmoth was muttering. "What, are they waiting to attack in the middle of the night or something? Because mark my words, I will be ready no matter what! No one can get past my security!"

...okay, so it sounded like maybe Mr. Agreste was planning on really locking the place down at night. That could be a problem if the superheroes wanted to go out on patrol, since Adrien might find himself locked in or locked out. If there was an akuma attack, then Adrien might not be able to get out without triggering some alarms.

Well, if that was the case, then Plagg would have to be sure to accidentally destroy some of the wiring controlling the metal shutters that snapped down over Adrien's bathroom windows. They could manage with just one small window open.

For the next few hours, Hawkmoth paced and fumed. He didn't seem particularly inclined to make any akumas, though why Plagg didn't know. After all, an akuma would be a distraction. It would draw the superheroes away from him, so he could stop stressing so much.

Plagg briefly wondered if it would be wrong of him to wish that his Chosen's father would keel over from stress. Mr. Agreste would deserve it.

Finally, Hawkmoth decided that no one was coming for him right away. He detransformed and stepped back onto a certain piece of floor. Before Plagg could fully focus on what was happening (he had been drowsing a little, so sue him), the floor was opening up and taking Mr. Agreste back the way he came.

Very efficient, very slick, very dramatic, very high tech, and, most importantly of all, very mechanical. One small broken piece and Mr. Agreste would get stranded halfway under the house. Plagg hadn't seen any doorways or exits of any sort leading off of the tunnel that the floor-elevator took, which meant that if something broke, Mr. Agreste would get stuck down there. He would no doubt call Nathalie, and she would have to step out of the office to find a suitable mechanic to fix the problem. If they needed to get into the office undetected, an elevator break-down would be an excellent diversion tactic.

Plagg would thoroughly enjoy breaking Mr. Agreste's stupid toys.

After another glance around the lair- Plagg had been hoping that Mr. Agreste would leave Nooroo up here so he could talk to the captive kwami, but no such luck; he would have to try to corner the other kwami at night, once Mr. Agreste fell asleep- Plagg plunged back down through the house. He loitered in the office, making sure that Mr. Agreste wasn't going to move anything from the safe, and only once Mr. Agreste headed off to bed, complaining of another headache, did Plagg zip back to Adrien's side to moan for cheese.

His stomach had never been so empty! He had done so much legwork, and that deserved a reward, right?

"I requested a second portion of macaroni and cheese at dinner," Adrien told Plagg, pulling out a Tupperware container full of warm, gooey, cheesy goodness. "I claimed that I had been practicing basketball in my room all afternoon and it made me really hungry so I would get more. I thought you deserved it, for all of the discoveries you're making." He looked exhausted, even more so than he normally did at the end of the day. Plagg wondered if trying to pretend that everything was still okay was taking a toll on his Chosen.

...he was definitely not the right kwami for the emotional stuff.

"Did you learn anything?" Adrien asked. Then he froze and glanced around. "You don't think the room is bugged, do you?"

Plagg glanced around and sniffed at the air before doing a quick circuit of the room just to be sure. "Not bugged. I suppose we should probably check on a regular basis until we can get Nooroo to feed your father some story as a diversion."

"What if he hears the story but doesn't believe it?" Adrien asked anxiously. The tension was clear on his face. Having to live in the same house as Hawkmoth was clearly starting to take a toll on him, even though he had only known for a few hours. "But then he tells Nooroo that he does, just to make us get our guard down?"

"He can't trick Nooroo, not when Nooroo is paying attention," Plagg told him. "He probably got tricked on your father's intentions initially, because he likes to see the best in everyone. He probably sensed the curiosity, because he was looking for it, and there were probably some other emotions too, I don't know-" Again, Plagg was not the kwami to ask about emotions, they were annoying and cheese was much better- "but if he's looking for lies, or deception, then he'll find it if it's there." Plagg was of the opinion Nooroo could stand to be more cautious, but the other kwami would probably never listen.

Adrien looked marginally more relaxed. Marginally.

"I learned that I should probably destroy the shuttering mechanism on one of your bathroom windows," Plagg said, eying the macaroni until Adrien opened the contained and pushed it towards him. "And I probably should explore the other security stuff and see what else needs destroying so you can come and go freely." He gobbled up one noodle, humming happily at the cheesy sauce, and then refocused for a moment. "And Hawkmoth has a pretty dangerous weapon, so we should be careful about attacking him when transformed. I know where his little elevator tunnel goes, and I did happen to spot some good places where I could make it break if we need him out of the way and not akumatizing anyone for a bit."

Adrien looked alarmed at the information about the weapon. Plagg somewhat regretted mentioning it, but someone had to remember to tell the old man about it and Plagg sure wasn't going to remember everything.

Also, Adrien was going to have to deal with Plagg talking with a full mouth because he couldn't keep himself from the mac 'n cheese any longer.

"I didn't get to look in the safe yet," Plagg mumbled a few seconds later around a mouthful of cheesy deliciousness. Man, if this was the reward he got for doing detective work, maybe he should do it more often. "I figured I would do it after Nathalie left, since you father already went to bed."

"And you'll count the number of scrolls and check the pin and see what else there is," Adrien said, either to remind Plagg or to remind himself of what they were trying to do. "How many scrolls there are, if there's anything else that we need to know about."

"Mm-hm," Plagg managed, his mouth stuffed full. "And then I come back and you take notes, and then I go to see if I can talk to Nooroo and see what all your father knows."

Adrien nodded. Plagg suspected that he would probably stay up until Plagg came back with news about what all his father knew. Plagg didn't blame him- Adrien probably didn't feel particularly safe with the thought that Hawkmoth might suspect who he was, especially when they lived in the same house. Hopefully Plagg would have some good news and Adrien would be able to stop worrying so much and get some sleep.

Or maybe Plagg would come back, gather his Chosen up, and hightail it back to Fu's house. It depended entirely on what Plagg discovered.

After the macaroni and cheese was thoroughly polished off, the container licked clean and he had washed the meal down with a lovely creamy piece of Camembert, Plagg felt energetic enough to venture out again. He took the time to disarm the security stuff around one of Adrien's bathroom windows so they would have an escape route, and then he dashed through the mostly-dark house towards Mr. Agreste's office. Nathalie was only just heading out, leaving the office dark and empty.

Perfect.

Plagg proceeded cautiously, making certain that he was alone. His eyes scanned the room, looking for shapes that weren't supposed to be there, but he found nothing.

He was free to explore.

Without even pausing, Plagg dove through the portrait and into the safe. He paused to let his eyes shift. If he were a normal cat, he would need a little light to see. But since he was a cat god, he wasn't particularly bound by such earthly rules.

Maybe his vision was a little greener than normal, but he could see details on the things around him just fine.

The scent of magic and power (and dust) hung heavy in the air, not anywhere near as nice-smelling as cheese. Plagg first made his way down to the middle shelf, the one that had held the book and the peacock pin. The pin looked really, really strange with his green-tinted vision, but that didn't matter.

Plagg held his paws out and placed them against the pin. The rush of magic he felt was overwhelming.

Yup. That's definitely the Peacock, all right.

Well, at least they knew where it was so they could recover it. As long as Adrien's father didn't completely freak out and try to rearrange all of the things he hid, they could just come in and take it once they got all of the persnickety details about hiding their tracks figured out.

Plagg glanced over the stuff about Tibet again (it wasn't magical) and then headed up a shelf. There were a few scrolls there and a stray book or two. Plagg flipped through the book and found design illustrations of the akuma next to what had to be redesigns, with notes in the margins about what improvements he should have made. There were a few with just the original drawing of the akuma, with the words "COMPLETELY USELESS" scrawled in a heavy hand next to them.

Plagg sniggered.

He flipped through another sketchbook and found it mostly blank. Some of the pages had scribbled ideas about emotions Mr. Agreste wanted to look for and target in the future, along with the powers he would want to use. Interesting, probably good information for Ladybug and Chat Noir to know in case those kinds of akumas ever did pop up, but ultimately too much for Plagg to keep track of.

So he headed down to the bottom shelf.

This shelf had a lot more stuff. There was a whole pile of scrolls and notebooks. It would be pretty fast to count the scrolls, which was most important, but it would take forever to look through the books properly and make sure that there wasn't stuff copied (and potentially attempts at translation made) from the books and the scrolls. Plagg wasn't certain what Fu would do if Mr. Agreste did have stuff like that, but that wasn't exactly his problem.

Overall, Plagg counted fourteen scrolls. They all had the same writing style, he discovered, and he couldn't see any drawings on them, which was good. Mr. Agreste would notice for certain if drawings randomly rearranged themselves or disappeared on his scrolls. He peered through the first book on the pile and saw a whole lot of notes, written in a very cramped hand.

He had better get a whole lot of cheese for this. Plagg wasn't meant to be a detective. He hated reading.

Scowling, Plagg started scanning the page. There were some mentions of the Miraculous, but most of the scribbling was notes about some Tibetan monk temple in the middle of the mountains. There were all sorts of notes about the myths about the location and what had happened there, some of which contradicted each other.

Plagg squinted. Huh, some of that stuff was sounding strangely familiar. There was a drawing of the place described in the myths- just a sketch, really- and it was ticking at some old memories-

Oh, right. It was the training center for young people- boys, mostly, if Plagg's memory was serving him correctly- who wanted to become Miraculous holders. Dozens were trained, and only a few were chosen. It was the most structured the Miraculous distribution had ever gotten, and the kwamis had all hated it. They were missing plenty of suitable holders in the general population, it had been annoyingly focused on research of the Miraculous instead of do-gooding, and the temple's trainees had been ridiculously skewed towards boys. It had been doomed to fail, really, and Fu's mistake that had led to the training center being destroyed had been a long time in the making.

So Adrien's father had been trying to find it, then. That was... good to know, Plagg guessed. It was probably old news, since Mr. Agreste had already found the Miraculous and the scrolls and book and everything. But maybe the pages would include information on why Mr. Agreste had been trying to find the temple in the first place. That could probably be important.

Deciding that that was quite enough information for one night, Plagg pushed everything back into place and zipped back out of the safe. Keeping low to the ground, he skirted back to Adrien's room to tell Adrien what he had found and to get some more cheese. He arrived to see Adrien diligently pretending to work on his homework, the windows behind him shuttered.

Apparently Mr. Agreste could trigger the home defense system remotely without being in his office. Either that, or Nathalie had been ordered to initiate the lockdown despite the absence of an obvious immediate threat.

"The peacock is real," Plagg reported once Adrien looked up. "And there's fourteen scrolls. There's some sketchbooks in there, too, but the ones on the top shelf are just a record of all of the akuma and their powers. The ones on the bottom I only glanced through, since there were a lot, but they seem to be journals. I'll need to go back sometime to read them, I guess. I just glanced at them, but they seemed to be from before your father went to Tibet. Can I have some Camembert?"

"From before my father and my mother went to Tibet, you mean," Adrien corrected. He reached under his desk and opened the mini-fridge he had stashed there, pulling out a few slices of Camembert and handing them over to Plagg. Plagg pounced greedily. "So fourteen scrolls, you said? Master Fu should probably make a couple extra just in case my father had some out."

Plagg barely heard, too busy savoring the delicious creamy Camembert. Adrien had been generous with his slices this time around.

"It's probably going to take a while for Master Fu and Wayzz to get all of those replicas made," Adrien fretted. He glanced at a bit of wall- probably actually in the direction of his father's office, if Plagg thought about it- and looked anxious. "Weeks, probably."

Plagg yawned- he had been working pretty hard, after all- and nibbled on the cheese some more. This whole deal was going to mess his sleeping schedule up so much. He was probably going to turn into a nocturnal kwami, and that was always so boring. It was hard to get in proper naps when Adrien was running all over the place with classes and photoshoots and seeing his friends.

"So are you going to go see Nooroo soon?" Adrien asked anxiously. "I just- I mean, I should get ready for bed soon, probably, but there's no way I can sleep if- if-"

He didn't need to finish. If his father was waiting for Adrien to let his guard down, then that would not be great, probably.

...darn it. Plagg was going to have to become a nocturnal kwami, wasn't he? He'd have to sit up all night like some sort of guard kitten and make sure that no one came into the room, even if Adrien had locked his doors.

Ugh. Messing up his sleep schedule like that always gave him indigestion.

"I gotta get my energy back up first," Plagg informed Adrien. "And I need to be positive that your father is asleep. The last thing we need is for me to get spotted again."

Adrien looked morose.

After another half-hour, Plagg zipped out of Adrien's room again. He had to pause in the atrium area- where exactly was Mr. Agreste's bedroom? He had definitely never been there before- before he caught a trace of Nooroo's magic aura.

...okay, it was possible that he should have maybe detected that before. The entire house smelled of butterfly. Ugh.

Following the trail, Plagg sniffed his way up to Mr. Agreste's room. He paused as soon as he got inside.

If Plagg had thought that the security on the rest of the house was ridiculous...well, he hadn't actually seen ridiculous until now. An iron plate had slammed down over the door as well as over the windows, and if Plagg really focused, he could tell that there were laser beam motion detectors crisscrossing in front of the windows.

...actually, that was pretty stupid. If Mr. Agreste was in the room and somehow missed hearing the sound of superheroes banging against the metal shutters, then how would he catch the sound of an alarm? And what good would it even do him to have an alarm to tell him after intruders had broken in?

Weird. Weird, weird, weird.

Mr. Agreste was definitely asleep in bed. He looked completely conked out, unlike the purple kwami perched on the bedside table next to him. Nooroo perked up when he saw Plagg, and then zipped towards him. Before Plagg could say anything, Nooroo was pushing him through the wall out into the hallway.

"I don't want him to wake up and overhear us," Nooroo whispered once they were in the hallway. "I already did some damage control, and I don't want that ruined."

"What does he know?" Plagg wanted to know right away. "How much did he see?"

"He saw a flash of green," Nooroo told him, and Plagg winced. "He figured it had to be either the cat or the turtle kwami, and I told him- well, I told him that there was no way it was you, because you're too lazy-"

"I'm what?" Plagg demanded, only just remembering to keep his voice down. "I am not!"

Nooroo fixed him with a look. "You normally aren't the type to explore, unless it is in search of cheese. And don't complain, my Master bought it! But I had to tell him that there's a Guardian that hands out the Miraculous and that he's the turtle and it would make sense for him to send his kwami out as a scout, because he was suspecting Adrien and that was the only way to throw him off."

Plagg almost pouted, then realized that Nooroo had a point. Wayzz and Fu were the type to go poking around. Plagg preferred to leave that kind of work to his Chosens.

"However, he is still suspicious of Adrien," Nooroo told Plagg, and Plagg cringed. That was not good news. "He saw Adrien's ring right after he saw Chat Noir's ring close up after one of the attacks. The magic interfered, so he isn't positive that the ring shape is right, but if he checks again and it matches..."

Plagg scowled. He could change the shape of the Miraculous (and he had before, so it would blend in better with the times), but it was always so. much. work. and it took a ton of energy. And he would just be changing it a little, and then what about when the superhero duo next turned up on TV? Mr. Agreste probably followed that, and he would keep a close eye on the Miraculous and note any changes.

He and Adrien would have to go talk to Fu again right away, apparently. The old man would have to think of some solution.

"He's getting close to cracking the code on the book, I think," Nooroo whispered. "Too close. And if he does, he could access new powers! Even with the magic fighting against him, that would be awful."

"We're planning to replicate the book and the scrolls and replace them with similar-looking fakes," Plagg told Nooroo, smirking a little. It wasn't often that he was the one who knew the Plan. Of course, that was usually because he wasn't paying attention while plans were being discussed because there was cheese nearby and plans were for his holder to pay attention to and remember, but those were minor details. "And the fakes would have letters scrambled around or altered to make nonsense."

Much to his surprise, Nooroo's eyes grew wide in alarm. "You can't! I mean, it would get the real things to you guys, maybe, but my master rarely looks at those anymore. He has everything scanned into his computer and he does all of his deciphering work on there."

...okay, that would probably be harder to deal with.

"I could tell you the password to that account," Nooroo told Plagg. "He has it under a different- a different user, I believe it's called, all separate from his design stuff. But how would you make practically identical files and switch them out really fast? And the office is really guarded- either Nathalie or Mr. Agreste is always in there, practically, and once they leave for the night or for a long time during the day there's a motion detector set up."

...somehow Plagg had missed that. It wouldn't pick up him, of course, but if Nathalie turned the system on when she got called away during their diversion, that could destroy their whole plan.

"I need you to tell me everything you know," Plagg told Nooroo, frowning. "Everything."

Adrien looked relieved when Plagg popped back into his room.

"Well, your father thinks that it was Wayzz that he spotted, not me," Plagg reported immediately, diving for the cheese Adrien had set out. He had been extra-generous with the amounts, Plagg could tell. He decided not to tell Adrien that he had actually made a detour to the kitchen on the way back to see if he could sniff out a little more of that divine macaroni and cheese. He had found it all packaged up and cold in the fridge, so he had contented himself with some slices of Swiss instead. "But he has noticed your ring's similarity to Chat No- what did you do to the Miraculous?"

Because the ring that Adrien had been fiddling with was not the Miraculous. It was a similar size, maybe, but the face shape was different. It was more square, and the prongs were flatter.

"It's from Master Fu," Adrien told Plagg, grinning. "He thought that since my father had seen the shape of the Miraculous up close, that I should wear my ring tucked inside my shirt on a cord around my neck when I'm around my father or during photoshoots and wear this instead. Then he might see this ring and see that the shape is different, and then decide that he mis-saw the ring before and that I'm not Chat Noir."

...that was annoyingly smart. But hey, at least that left one fewer problem for Plagg to remember that they had to solve.

"Thankfully between my loose shirts and my jacket the Miraculous doesn't leave a lump," Adrien said, glancing down at himself. "But I'll have to do something else during photoshoots, because Father or the photographer will notice if there's even the tiniest bump in my shirt. Maybe I can just turn the necklace around and have the ring hanging down my back or something. I just tried seeing if I could wear it as a toe ring or something, but it dug in a lot and hurt."

"Or I could watch the ring for a bit," Plagg said with a yawn. "For a little extra cheese, of course. I normally nap during your photoshoots and I won't be able to if I'm watching the ring, so I require extra compensation. And no putting my ring on your smelly feet, or you'll make me sick."

Adrien nodded.

"Nooroo said that your father had been looking at your photos from the shoots to try to figure out when you started wearing the ring, but there's no clear shots of the face of the Miraculous at all and the ring doesn't even appear in any shots until nearly a month and a half after the first akuma appeared," Plagg reported. Nooroo had been a veritable spring of information. Clearly he paid more attention to his surroundings than Plagg did, probably because he didn't have much else to do. "So he doesn't have an exact timeline of when you got the ring."

"Thank goodness for pockets in fall fashion," Adrien sighed, looking relieved. "The photographer always has my put my hands in the pockets for those shots. And I didn't have as many shoots as usual right after I started school, though that probably had less to do with my schoolwork and more to do with him being more busy since he was just starting to terrorize the city. But a month and a half in? I can work with that. I can come up with a story."

"And Nooroo had a bunch of other information," Plagg told him. "Get your pencil out. I wanna tell you everything before I forget it, and then I want some cheese and I want to sleep. It's been a really long day."

Against all odds, Adrien slept through the night. Plagg stayed up at first, before deciding that Adrien's father wouldn't be trying to come for the ring tonight. Even if he did, the doors to Adrien's room and the one uncovered window were both locked, and the noise it would make to open either would wake up either Adrien or Plagg.

Even though he had slept for most of the night, Plagg was still dragging the next morning. Adrien had clearly noticed, and was plying Plagg with cheese. He was enjoying some cheesy scrambled eggs when they heard Mr. Agreste's voice. Adrien straightened, but it was hardly an unusual response. Plagg had heard Mr. Agreste scold his son for his posture enough to figure out where the reflexive response came from.

"Father," Adrien said, sounding impressively normal. "Is your eye any better today?"

"Moderately. The doctor said that it could take several weeks for it to stop hurting, though."

Plagg yawned and tuned out the conversation. It was just boring chit-chat, maybe more than father and son normally exchanged but also nothing important. His time would be better spent enjoying the cheesy eggs.

He was so focused on the eggs that Plagg almost missed Mr. Agreste's comment about Adrien's ring.

"Nino gave it to me for my birthday," Adrien lied easily, so smoothly that Plagg briefly wondered if his Chosen had ever seriously considered going into acting. "He thought that I might like it. It does give me something to fiddle with while I'm thinking in class so I don't accidentally disturb anyone."

"I see. May I look?"

Plagg peered carefully out of the bag, keeping himself hidden and his eyes narrowed as he watched Adrien slip the decoy ring off of his finger without hesitation so his father could look at it. It was a good quality ring, Plagg had noticed the previous night, actually metal like the Miraculous and not easy to damage at all. Even so, it probably would be within Adrien's friend's budget range easily enough. Mr. Agreste took the ring and inspected it, and Plagg watched with great satisfaction as something in Mr. Agreste's face fell. He did a good job of hiding it, of course- that cold, emotionless mask only slightly budged- but clearly he could tell that the ring was not the Cat Miraculous. He handed the ring back to Adrien, who slipped it back on.

"That was quite thoughtful of your friend," he said. "And quite tasteful. Impressive, considering that he goes around calling adults 'dude'."

Big words, coming from someone who threw temper tantrums whenever an akuma fight didn't go his way. Plagg had heard all sorts of stories from Nooroo. It was very tempting to share some of those stories with Adrien, just to try to cheer him up a bit.

"Well, I must be off," Mr. Agreste said after a short pause. "I'm quite behind on my work since I had to take yesterday off. Don't forget that you have an extra fencing lesson this afternoon."

"Of course, Father."

"I think that went well," Adrien murmured after his father had left. "I could see that he was surprised that I gave him the ring so easily. And he definitely saw that the face was different than, y'know..."

"Right." Plagg peered at the door, listening as Mr. Agreste's footsteps as he walked into his office and he stopped. "You might want to ask Nino to lie about the ring in case your father asks, though. Just to be safe. And, uh- do you have any more of those eggs? Or any extra cheese to put on them?"

13 notes · View notes

bettsplendens · 6 years

Text

3484 words of Blackspark grooming and otherwise pampering a newer OC of mine, Sharpshot. No real warnings for this, aside from dealing with some old scars. Literal ones. Technically plug’n’play interface, but not the sexual take on it, just as a way to share information.

All crude jokes aside, Blackspark knew how to handle a weapon. He had more than one sniper rifle of his own, and, when you came down to it, a rifle-alt wasn’t terribly different. Heavier around the base, since there was a living mech inside rather than just the needed components of a rifle, and with a thicker barrel to make up for the fact that the barrel had to be made of segments rather than one solid piece. The same general design, though, with three major differences. First, a rifle-alt could be trusted not to go off accidentally. Second, you didn’t take a rifle-alt apart for cleaning. Third, and most pleasantly, regular sniper rifles didn’t sigh quietly in enjoyment when you were working on cleaning their barrel.

Blackspark had laid a towel over his lap for some padding and was gently supporting Sharpshot’s alt in one arm, slowly polishing the barrel with a cloth held in his other servo. Cleaning the interior of the barrel hadn’t gotten any real response, and from what he’d heard didn’t tend to be a big deal for most weapon-alts. Made sense, since they were more than used to standard cleaning after a couple of years and the barrel wasn’t sensitive in alt mode anyway. But this… well, this wasn’t really necessary, but he’d promised to pamper Sharpshot.

And from the look of things, nobody had done so in a very long time. Sharpshot kept his frame clean, of course, but he had more scars on his alt than were really necessary- mostly in areas that indicated someone had been none too gentle with the rifle they were hauling. Even a few that looked like he might have been used as a club. Grumbling quietly about careless Functionalists, Blackspark shifted the small mech in his lap to carefully inspect the scars, then switched to a soft brush to clean the areas over the scars. Rougher metal needed a different scrubber to get it clean, but Sharpshot didn’t seem to mind. In fact, the plates under Blackspark’s servos lifted a fraction, allowing him to scrub at the edges. “Yeah- there we go. Havin’ fun?”

No response, other than a flicker of EM field against his fingertips. Which was, in itself, a considerable thing, since rifle-alts kept their fields entirely hidden in alt mode so they wouldn’t distract their wielder. They also kept their plating firmly down in place for stability. But this… this was distinctly unusual. Sharpshot was relaxed enough to flicker relaxation/pleasure/appreciation against Blackspark, to lift his plating and let him under, to start making quiet sounds of enjoyment at his work. Purring gently, Blackspark shifted the smaller mech in his lap and tucked the end of the barrel against the side of his neck, making the encounter just a bit more intimate and fully demonstrating his trust. Sharpshot could kill him like this, but wasn’t about to- didn’t even have any energy built up yet. Defenseless, for the moment, and trusting Blackspark entirely.

It felt excellent.

Letting himself purr, just slightly, Blackspark lingered on the edges of those slightly raised plates in an effort to reward Sharpshot for the trust. It worked, too, Sharpshot crooned softly up at him and fluffed the plating even further.

He’d already gotten all the vital cleaning done, so, once he’d given everything a good once-over, he set the rifle-alt flat in his lap and patted approximately where he thought Sharpshot’s chassis was. “A’right, c’mon out. We aren’t done here,” he purred, watching with a little smile as Sharpshot had to settle his plating back down to get to the point where he could transform. Cute- too relaxed to coordinate anything.

And then, well… then he had an attractive little mech in his lap. Not just in his lap- straddling his legs and blinking up at him with half-focused optics. Which was tasty, but now was not the time for suggestiveness, now was the time for gentle affection. Purring softly, he leaned back and lifted one delicate servo to his lips for a soft kiss, grinning widely when Sharpshot responded with a rather startled expression and a hint of flattery/pleasure in their field. Nice.

Pulling his supplies closer, he dipped Sharpshot’s servo into a basin of a mild solvent, then selected a small, soft brush and began to gently scrub around his fingers. Very carefully on the tips, then a bit more firmly around some of the scars, dislodging the grime that tended to build up in servo joints without removal. It was worse when scar tissue was involved, the rough metal clung to grime. Couldn’t be comfortable at all, poor mech. It wouldn’t interfere with Sharpshot’s ability to do their job, but, Primus- must be hard for him to move his fingers properly.

Humming softly, Blackspark cleaned away everything he could, then put the solvent aside started to work a few drops of oil into the tiny joints. Sharpshot’s optics were mostly closed by that point, so he let his gaze drift up a bit, taking the opportunity to look Sharpshot over from close up. Such an interesting frame!

His optics were probably the thing that caught people’s attention at first. One bright red, perfectly round primary optic, often kept shut indoors, and two smaller, dull orange optics that were set slightly out to the sides. His antennae were odd, too, seeming unusually short and thick at first glance. Second glance would reveal that those were actually sheathes, and that the actual antennae extended from the tips when it was safe. Sheaths like that were unusual on most frametypes, but relatively common on the audials and antennae of any mechs with a large gun incorporated into their frame, especially when their entire frame was a gun.

From there… narrow chassis, lanky stomach, slender hips, a distinctly delicate-looking frame that made Blackspark want to fit his servos around Sharpshot’s midsection. His legs were harder to get a look at without clearly staring somewhere other than his servo, but Blackspark could feel Sharpshot’s legs around his frame, and he’d seen before in quick once-overs. Oddly thick plating, but in narrow, vertical pieces, and relatively small pedes that split into two toes- ooh, with small silicone pads on them. Same pads on Sharpshot’s fingertips and palms, thin and slightly ridged, meant to help grip onto surfaces. Pausing again, Blackspark lightly brushed the pads against his own cheek, then purred reassuringly when Sharpshot opened all three optics to look up at him. “Don’t mind me, jus’ gettin’ a feel for these. Neat li’l detail. An’, hey- secret li’l pretty details right in here.”

Most of Sharpshot’s frame was a soft, matte silver with varying degrees of purple mixed in, seemingly meaningless patterns that would assemble into countershading in alt mode. His servos were darker, a shadowy matte purple, and there were thin white lines tracing around the edges of his fingers and collecting into white at the very tips of his claws. A lovely little bit of contrast.

Sharpshot opened his optics just enough to look down at his servos, seeing only the usual colorless gridwork that his secondary optics read in, then shut his optics again and sighed quietly. “Can’t see color this close up, remember? Don’t… know what you’re talking about.”

He was expecting it to end at that. It didn’t, though, and he opened their secondary optics at a quiet clicking sound. Hm- didn’t need to see color to see that Blackspark had just opened his wrist panel. That was… interesting, and he carefully held one of the plugs between his fingertips as he looked up to try and figure out the intent here.

Completely relaxed and pulsing quiet invitation/reassurance/enjoyment, Blackspark revved his engine in an encouraging gesture, holding his servo where Sharpshot could easily reach. “You’re missing out, handsome. Here… plug in, I’ll letcha at my visual feed so you can get a look at your pretty self. No strings, promise. Just a coupla cables.”

Sharpshot watched him for a moment, thinking, then opened his own wrist panel and carefully pressed Blackspark’s plug into place. Sure- why not? Blackspark definitely wasn’t up to anything with him, and he had good firewalls in any place. Besides… he was curious. So he settled the bounty hunter’s plug into one of his ports, then offered up one of his own cables, which hopefully wouldn’t be too small to fit.

It wasn’t. Blackspark’s port had to cycle down a size or two, but nothing the calipers couldn’t easily do, and the link flickered to life between them. An offer of a live feed popped up, and, when Sharpshot accepted, he was viewing Blackspark’s optical feed. A feed of himself, close up, in color and detail- interesting! He’d never seen close-up details in color, and-

Oh. Sharpshot blinked a couple of times, straightening up, then shut his optics to better focus on the feed. He’d never actually seen what he looked like. His own build, of course, from looking down at himself, but only being able to see the shapes of things up close meant that he couldn’t see his own colors or use a mirror in any way. So this… this was very interesting.

Turning to one side, then the other, he took the opportunity to look himself over for the first time. Hm- Blackspark might have a point. Sharpshot wasn’t quite certain what people generally considered attractive, but he did look quite nice, and- oh, the white details on his servos were definitely pretty. Come to think of it… so was the rest of him. Hm.

Sharpshot was aware of the overlapping, scale-like plates on his back, especially as he moved and lifted the plating up, but he’d never gotten anything like a look at it before. No wonder people wanted to touch his back- that did look like an interesting texture. And there was the white again, on the very edges of the plates, where it wouldn’t show up in his alt mode when the plating was settled in place. Interesting.

Settling against the wall, he half-opened his optics for a moment to see the colors as he looked over his shoulder, then shivered just a fraction at the sight of himself. Optics half-shut, lounging against the wall, plating lifted and smiling just a fraction. That was… hm. Well.

“Ah. No wonder you wanted me to see this. I am hot. Thank you for this.”

Shutting his optics again, Sharpshot turned around and settled comfortably into Blackspark’s lap, quietly enjoying the feed as he offered his servos to the larger mech again. “This is… not a level of attention I am used to, but… I find myself quite enjoying it. Please continue,” he purred, letting his field wrap softly into Blackspark’s, and practically melted into the corner and into the hunter’s lap as he obliged.

Genuinely delighted, Blackspark left the plugs in place for as long as Sharpshot accepted the feed, working the oil gently into his servos in the meantime. Honestly, the link felt nice- Sharpshot’s port was tight around his plug, and the rifle-alt’s presence was soft, quiet, and relaxed on the other end of the link. A pleasant set of sensations, and a wonderful addition to the enjoyment of feeling Sharpshot relax under his servos. The rifle couldn’t purr, not quite, but he kept making soft, breathy noises somewhere between sighs and moans. Not quite suggestive, he was too relaxed for that, but mm.

Taking his time, Blackspark slowly worked a generous dose of oil into both of Sharpshot’s servos, especially around the scars, then began to move up his arms. This was a small and delicate mech, so it took a delicate touch, but that also meant that there was less space to cover.

Sharpshot stayed relaxed for most of the work, but tensed up now and then in discomfort when Blackspark got rougher with some of the scars. Sometimes it took a tougher brush to properly clean them off, to remove the outer layer of long-dead nanites adhered to the scar tissue, which wasn’t very pleasant for Sharpshot. Blackspark offered an assortment of distractions,though- kissing the backs of his servos again, pressing those tiny servo pads to his cheek or audial fins, or focusing his optics on a detail of Sharpshot’s frame that he liked in order to give his patient something better to think about. Fortunately, the only scars on his front large enough to need special attention were on his servos and arms, his stomach and chassis sported only a few slightly raised areas that were completely covered in healthy nanites. No joints to oil, either- just a few transformation seams, everything else was soft muscle cabling or protoform.

His back was slower, though, and they had to unplug so the cables didn’t get tangled up while trying to clean this mess. Lots of scars, lots of transformation seams tucked under plating, lots of work to be done. Not much of it was comfortable for Sharpshot, unfortunately, and there was very little that Blackspark could do about it. The scars wouldn’t heal properly like this, not without cleaning, and removing that outer layer of grime would allow Blackspark to work in more oil to help loosen the scars up. A necessary- well, not evil, but unpleasantness. One that had Sharpshot gritting his dentae and bracing himself against the wall, and had Blackspark feeling distinctly not okay with the situation. He didn’t like causing people pain, at least not people he liked, and he liked Sharpshot. So- time to stop and ask.

Lowering both servos to stroke gently at Sharpshot’s sides, Blackspark purred softly for a moment, trying to settle the smaller mech down a bit. “Easy, there… takin’ a li’l break. Sharpshot, you wanna stop? We can stop for a bit, or for good- don’t really need to strip all these scars now. Really should at some point, they ain’t gonna get any better ‘till they get some work done, but we can keep this whole session nice an’ gentle if yer uncomfortable.”

Sharpshot grumbled quietly and shivered, antennae low and askew, and slowly relaxed into Blackspark’s touches. “No. I want to get this out of the way, and I suspect this will feel rather nice when you finish. Continue. I can stand it.”

He could. It wasn’t fun, the scrubbing bordered on pain, but it was necessary- and he could put up with worse. It required bracing himself, but it worked. Helped that Blackspark kept-

Well, essentially snuggling him. Nuzzling the back of his helm, stroking his arms or sides when he got too tense, staying as close to him as possible while still being able to reach his back. It felt… hm. Completely opposite of the cleanings he was used to, but it was… mm.

It was amazing.

If a bit confusing when Blackspark proceeded to turn him around. What was he planning to do n-

Ohh-

Blackspark poured a large dose of the oil down Sharpshot’s back, over all the old marks and scars, and the sensors underneath lit up with fire. Sharpshot tensed and gripped tightly onto Blackspark’s frame, choking back a hiss of what was definitely pain, then slumped limp and-

Well, moaned. Much louder than expected, because the oil was soaking into and through the old wounds, soothing the briefly agitated sensors, and it felt amazing. He felt like he was melting, and probably looked like it, slumped against Blackspark and continuing to moan in bliss. It wasn’t intentional, but he was far too relaxed to stop himself.

“Oh, yeah- there we go,” Blackspark purred, holding Sharpshot gently against his own frame, and slowly stood up in lieu of setting him down. “You got real relaxed, cutie- tell ya what, how about we take this back to my berth? Not, uh- not for interface, just- gonna be more comfy. Would you be a’ight with that, Sharpshot? No pressure.”

Sharpshot didn’t seem coherent, kneading claws quickly against his arms, but nodded against his throat in response to the question. Therefore, Blackspark gently carried his bundle of relaxed little mech to his berthroom across the hall, humming softly as he set the sniper down. “You just stay riiight there. Gonna be back.”

Blackspark’s berth was large, soft, and lightly shredded. Not at all surprising, and very comfortable as Sharpshot nuzzled into it. Warm, soft… mmh.

Now that he was in a quiet place, Sharpshot let his antennae extend out of the sheaths, feeling the vibrations in the air as Blackspark approached. Giving a quiet “mrrp” noise, he fluffed his plating into the approaching servos, then moaned again –albeit quieter- as Blackspark’s servos landed on his back.

“Aw. Thought you’d relax,” Blackspark purred, stroking Sharpshot’s back plating, and gradually began to work his fingertips down the small mech’s spine in firm, careful rubbing motions. Sharpshot didn’t say anything in response, but pushed up into his servos, groaning softly against the blankets in clear (if muffled) pleasure.

As Blackspark continued to work, Sharpshot gradually relaxed again and made a noise almost like a purr, optics shut and face pushed into the blankets. He felt good, clearly, and it made Blackspark purr in return at the show. Oh- so pretty, so sweet, so relaxed. Had no one ever done something like this for him? It certainly seemed like they hadn’t. At the very least, it had been a very long time, because there was a lot of tension to work out.

More than willing to work out all of said tension, Blackspark moved down Sharpshot’s back, not shying from the complicated mechanisms just above his aft, occasionally applying the vibes in his fingertips ever-so-softly to particularly stubborn cables. From there, he slid both servos to Sharpshot’s leg, tilting the smaller mech to the side slightly to put his leg at a good angle, then propped the padded little pede against his own chassis and went to work. Each section got a thorough cleaning to remove any grit that had been missed earlier, then a careful massage, easing muscle cables and lengths of plating back to where they belonged.

And, when Blackspark got to Sharpshot’s pedes, he did something self-indulgent and lingered there. Sharpshot had thick, dense, silicone-like pads on the bottoms of his pedes, and massaging the pads was more than enjoyable. Plus, it made Sharpshot rumble quiet noises of happiness and push gently into him- apparently it was comfortable.

It was delightful, and Sharpshot voiced his approval in wordless sounds, lifting his plating against the touches with every soft noise. So gentle, so meticulous… this was far, far beyond any cleaning that he actually needed, but he loved it. Didn’t bother to hide it, either, it earned him more attention and lingering strokes to especially nice areas whenever he purred.

Primus… he’d never had anyone focus this much attention on him. Not even people who’d been trying to kill him- they gave up much faster than this. Blackspark was, mm…

A thought occurred to him, and Sharpshot propped himself up enough to look back over his shoulder at Blackspark, helm tilted slightly. “Are you trying to get me calm enough to proposition me?”

Blackspark paused, mildly surprised, then purred and continued working his way back up Sharpshot’s legs. “Nah. Don’ get me wrong, I’m sure we’d have fun, but no. When I wanna frag, I say so right off. Maybe later. You ignore tha’ right now, just enjoy this, this’s for you to get all melty.”

Humming softly, he worked his way further up the minibot’s frame, up to rub at his back again. “Mm- here, you flip over. Let’s keep goin’. Don’ get me wrong, Sharpshot, I’m enjoyin’ myself. Just keep makin’ those pretty noises for me.”

A satisfying enough answer. If this was an extended attempt at a proposition, it would still have been pleasant, but- without any sort of intent? Even better. Sharpshot turned over, as requested, and watched Blackspark’s servos travel up to his chassis. There was an overlay of smaller plates around the center of his chassis, ones that would fold into an extremely short barrel if needed, and Sharpshot obligingly flared them to allow Blackspark to work oil into the intricate sliding mechanisms.

Seeing no further reason to stay awake, Sharpshot let his optics slide shut, relaxing into the berth under surprisingly careful clawed servos. Blackspark wasn’t going to hurt him, clearly, and he was confident that he would wake up thoroughly oiled and relaxed.

Which he did.

When he woke up, Sharpshot found himself curled against Blackspark’s front, with Blackspark wrapped around him but not quite containing him. A series of slow, deliberate stretches revealed that Blackspark had loosened and oiled, mm… seemed like literally every joint in his frame, including the delicate ones around his antennae. Remarkably thorough.

Mm. He should do the same for Blackspark at some point.

Or proposition him.

Or both. Both sounded good.

#Blackspark #Sharpshot #they affection

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