The ol WIP Wednesday, I see!!
I DONT have any FHR ones, but I DO have this Alessa from the talented @anathemafiction’s Gold Rose series
Just need to figure out how to paint horse fur and we’ll be back in business!
Thank you for the tag @aurriearts!!:)
I tag YOU reading this! If you want to, of course! No pressure! But I’d love to see what you’ve been working on!:)
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Short one-shot based off this post by @noahlivingston . Thanks for the inspo!!
The Rat King
Words: 881
Fandom: Fallen Hero: Retribution
Pairing: Chargestep, M/M
Warnings: Mentioning of suicidal ideation
Blurb: “ Ryker puts down his fork, sliding the plate away a second later, the discussion ruining whatever little appetite he had left, “You know, you’re not going to like the answers to all of these questions.” “
“What is it? The Rat King?”
Ryker closes his eyes, the regret immediately dog piling him. It had been a slip of the tongue, and now he knew Ortega wasn’t going to let it rest. “They-“ he stresses the word, “are five sisters, who are also five little rat brains in a tube that are connected telepathically. And yes, their name is The Rat King.”
“And you put them in Vital’s suit.” Ortega’s watching him when a strange look in his eye. Something like curiosity, but mostly caution. Afraid if he pushes too much, Ryker will shut down.
“They help me keep everything straight.” Ryker admits. “They can keep on eye on the environment and fill me in on things going on around us when we’re in a fight.”
“Where did they come from?”
Hmm. Another question he doesn’t want to answer, but he’s also tired of lying to Ortega. Was this really worth getting into? Maybe he should just refuse to answer the question, but that also doesn’t sit right with him. Here he was, with halfway healed legs, living in Ricardo’s apartment, already having admitted to being a villain that put Ortega in the hospital. And here was Ortega, still taking care of him, not arresting him, doing his best to understand him and his choices.
“Do you…” his mouth suddenly goes dry, how to explain this without giving Ricardo a heart attack? “You remember the Psychopathor.” Not a question, but he waits for Ricardo to nod anyways, “Do you remember his cannon? And the targeting web it used?”
“From when he nearly killed us? Yeah. Telepathically linked rodent brains.” Ortega says, recalling Ryker’s statement word-for-word, even though it was thirteen years ago. “How’d you get it from him?”
Ryker puts down his fork, sliding the plate away a second later, the discussion ruining whatever little appetite he had left, “You know, you’re not going to like the answers to all of these questions.”
“There’s a lot of things I don’t like,” Ortega replies, something like a smirk on his lips, “doesn’t mean I don’t want to know.”
Ryker sighs, heavy, filled to the brim with resignation. “I… stole it from him.”
“How?”
“Well. Do you remember a year ago when the… Special Directive tried to take him in?”
“Yeah, attacked a warehouse he was liaring in, if I recall?”
“Right.” Is all Ryker says
Ortega connects the dots faster than he expected, “You called the Special Directive on him!?”
Ryker shrugs, trying to project aloofness, “Yeah. Snuck in during the fight and stole it.”
“Ryker! ¡En serio!?” Ricardo’s face goes through all five stages of grief in just a few seconds, “You called the people who are actively looking for you and told them where you were!?”
“They didn’t know it was me!” Ryker hisses, keeping his voice down, as if they were back on a mission, trying to keep the argument from alerting enemies. “I told them where they could find the Psychopathor, not me.”
“But you were there too!” Ortega hisses back “Do you even realize how dangerous-“
“Of course I did!” Ryker interrupts, “But it’s not like I could fight him by myself!”
“Why didn’t you call The Rangers?!” The disbelief on his face makes Ryker want to cringe into oblivion, “At least the you wouldn’t have run the risk of getting captured again!”
“Why would I!?” Ryker folds his arms over his chest, “You and Chen would’ve recognized me with a glance- I wasn’t, I didn’t-“ words were starting to fail him. How was he suppose to explain that the thought of seeing Ortega again, and having to face the possibility of Ortega not caring that he was alive, was more terrifying than the thought of being recaptured was? The Farm was good at that, at making him feel worthless, at convincing him that everything he ever had with Ricardo was lie. He hadn’t been ready to face that reality. “At least the Special Directive just sent in other Re-Genes. The Handlers wouldn’t get that close to the fighting, my chance of being recognized was astronomically lower by calling them than you.”
Ortega visibly swallows down a retort, choosing instead to run both hands through his hair. “No puedo creerlo.” He mutters, “Eres idiota.” The Spanish continues on for several more seconds before Ricardo returns his gaze to Ryker, who pointedly looks away. “You could’ve gotten killed, or found, or taken-“
“But I didn’t.” Ryker says, “And I got The Rat King. Everything worked out.”
Ortega flops back in his chair, near boneless, seemingly having aged ten year in a single conversation. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
“And myself, probably.” Ryker jokes, but it doesn’t land. Ortega just fixes him with a hard stare. Ah, right. He had forgotten Ortega also knew about his suicidal ideation. That subject was no longer on the table to be joked about. He waves his hand through the air, trying to swipe the bad vibes out of the room, “It’s fine. It worked out, I’m alive, and I have The Rat King.”
Ortega sighs, thinks for a moment before shaking his head. “I suppose. Just- be more careful? In the future?”
“I…. Will do my best.” Ryker says, and for once, it’s not a lie.
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