A Series Of One-Shots [REQUESTS OPEN]

Sparks Fly

Original - 2020

boyXnonbinary, fantasy with smut

Colt has a penchant for stealing shiny things and sticking it to the man, travelling town to town and leaving chaos in his wake. In the superstitious town of Eurslem, he narrowly escapes the pursuit of the Mayor's guards fleeing hiding to the forbidden woods nearby. Colt has heard the stories, about a creature so powerful that it could end your life a flick of its wrist. But Colt has never been one to believe scary stories, and all that he finds in the woods is the soft spoken and endearing Blaze.

Aka a medieval himbo passes out in the woods, has sex and finds love. Not necessarily in that order.

*

Colt knows that he's fucked up.

He's running for his life, bleeding, in the middle of the night? It's a less than ideal circumstance. But, then again, Colt should be used to ending up in less than ideal situations.

What else could you expect from a thief?

Bundled under his arm as he runs, trying his hardest not to put any weight on his left leg where an arrow had pierced straight through, is a priceless artefact from the Mayor's home. In Colt's opinion, the Mayor hordes far too many riches in that fancy house of his while his people starve. So why shouldn't Colt steal from him?

He's not some sort of Robin Hood, granted. He has every intention of keeping this gold skull to himself. Surely the townspeople will get a kick out of someone successfully stealing from the widely-disliked leader.

If Colt escapes this, granted.

The gash in his leg is slowing him down, and he can hear the aggressive barking of dogs growing steadily closer. Behind them, are the townguards – armed to the teeth and well paid. So of course they're going to be more eager to drag him back by his ankles (or his neck, if they're feeling particularly inspired).

And Colt is rather a fan of his neck, thank you very much. He's also a big fan of the solid gold skull under his arm, so the last thing he's going to do is get caught.

Dogs yapping aggressively, Colt tries his darndest to reach the crest of trees before they can get him. Colt has been in this town all of a month (never one to settle in a single place for too long), but it's long enough to know that the townspeople have something against the woods. Hell, even the surrounding towns have the same fear. Slightly different stories, but all with the same message. Children are told bedtime stories of monsters that lay in the darkness, waiting to strike. The adults fear something they don't quite understand.

Magic, and a creature that wields it with a fury.

Sure, Colt knows that magic is a thing. He's in his twenties, he's seen enough of the world to know that there are extraordinary people out there that can wield the elements to do their biddings. But they're parlour tricks, nothing dangerous. Nothing close to what the townspeople of Eurslem fear. And even if they are right, Colt is happy to take his chances in the depths of the forest than with the guards on his trail.

Finally, he makes it. Shouldering through thick branches and into the eerie stillness of the woods. He keeps moving, just in case the dogs haven't been informed of the taboo around these areas, gritting his teeth and tears stinging the corner of his eyes. He doesn't want to cry damnit, but there is a gash in his leg and Colt thinks that being in agonising pain can be justified around about now. He pushes onwards, feet catching in the underbrush until his boot catches in an overgrown root and he loses his balance.

"Fuck," Colt groans, trying to push himself up from the muddy ground. His head is spinning, he must have hit it off of something on the way down. His leg isn't cooperating, and the dizziness he feels is making it close to impossible to push himself up from the ground. He can't hear the dogs anymore, or the determined footfall of the guards – so Colt figures that he's safe.