City (e)Scape 1/?
Title: City (e)Scape
Progress: 1/?
Pairing: To be decided
Rating: PG-13 ~ NC-17
Warnings: Graphic violence, blood/gore, sexual situations (more to be added)
Summary: In a grisly future, healers and hunters are bred for the specific purpose of keeping order for THEM. But when IT starts to revolt and draft wary healers and hunters to create its own army, it’s obvious that someone is on the inside. Jonghyun and Kibum, the child prodigies of THEM are out to settle the score and find out what really happened - even at the sake of their own loyalty.
A/N: Title is a play on the term ‘cityscape’, which is basically ‘the view of the city’; it’s about wanting to break free from the norm, to escape the life you’re born into, to find yourself and others and do what you want to do with your own life.
This hit me randomly and it’s weird I know and probably a bit confusing but all will be explained. Doing another multi-chap will help keep my muse fresh and bright.
Pairings have not yet been decided.
This is a lot different from what I usually write but uhm. Enjoy? ^^;
-These first few chapters are going to be somewhat short to give some insight into the characters, the plot and the setting. Longer chapters with more action will be coming, I promise. I’m still fleshing this out as I go.
[ Prologue ]
--
“You’re going to attract attention.”
A soft giggle met Minho’s stiff words, and the flash of a white sundress flitted out of his vision. The brunet pursed his lips but stayed otherwise emotionless as Taemin frolicked about the crowds, perfectly content with his gender-bending ways. The artificial sun reflected off of the dress and the younger boy’s shiny hair and Minho couldn’t stay mad; whether they attracted attention or not wasn’t really the issue, it was all the perverts that would sometimes look at Taemin like a tasty morsel that Minho had an issue with.
“Hyung, hyung!”
Minho fell into step with Taemin as the younger boy pointed out to the other side of the street. A vendor was selling candied apples and Taemin had the most uncontrollable sweet tooth; so, unable to resist Taemin’s adorable pout, Minho looked both ways before allowing them to cross the busy street, the traffic moving slow enough for them to walk their way around the cars.
Taemin was always like this - tugging on Minho’s sleeve, jacket, hand, getting his attention and pointing out something completely ridiculous. Minho had never had a candied apple, he had never tasted much candy in his life, to be exact. He didn’t have that privilege when he was born into IT. He was born into the slums that were in a constant war, a place where children didn’t really get a childhood - toys and tv shows were exchanged for guns and training camps.
Taemin was lucky, though.
Taemin had originally been born under THEM, to be raised with THEM as a healer. No one could match his skill, however, and he had remained partner less and in THEIR eyes Taemin was useless unless his prodigal skills were being put to use. Without a hunter Taemin couldn’t be his full potential, and so THEY had kicked him out onto the streets.
Minho’s parents had found Taemin, they had taken him and raised him up. They had been in the process of training Minho to be a hunter, and it was by coincidence that Taemin happened to be a healer. Or at least that’s what they said.
Minho thought it had been fate, and since the day he had looked into those crystal blue eyes he knew that it was nothing but.
As they approached the vendor Taemin fidgeted with the scarf that was wrapped around his bicep, hiding the tattoo that marked everyone under IT. He had cried so hard when he got it done, the needle jabbing into his skin and Minho could only hold his hand and kiss the tears away, could only whisper that it’d be over soon. Minho babied Taemin a lot but he couldn’t help it - they were partners, they were friends, they were brothers, and Minho would shed his own blood before he let Taemin shed his.
That was the best quality in the hunter, Minho thought; unwavering loyalty to the healer.
“Hyung, can I have that one?” Taemin asked, pointing to a fat, red apple.
The vender smiled and picked it up, and Minho nodded, watching as the old man scooped it into the caramel sauce. It was then handed to Taemin, who happily started to lick up the caramel, and Minho handed the vendor exact change before nodding and putting his hand on the small of Taemin’s back, leading him down the sidewalk once again.
Glancing down at the shorter boy, Minho watched as one of the straps to the dress slipped lower and lower off those narrow shoulders. Licking his lips, he reached up to adjust the straps, and Taemin glanced up at him then, his lips sticky and sweet from the caramel apple.
“They didn’t really have one that fit properly,” the boy said, blushing prettily as he continued to eat his candied treat. Minho knew it didn’t fit properly because Taemin didn’t have breasts.
“It looks lovely,” Minho commented.
And it did - Taemin, for who knew what reason, loved to wear dresses and skirts and blouses and pull his hair up with pretty clips. He said it added color to their dreary world, it made their lives seem that much more cheery. Minho had to admire Taemin; after the Black Out almost everyone’s cheer and sunshine disappeared along with the actual Sun.
That wasn’t to say that Taemin should be underrated, just because he looked good in a sun dress.
No; Taemin could be a machine when he wanted, and despite the fact that he hated violence he would do his job without a word, assisting Minho on their missions.
“Minho…”
Blinking, Minho drew his gaze from Taemin’s protruding collarbones, where he had been staring without even noticing. His big eyes drew up to Taemin’s sapphire ones, to show he was listening.
Taemin smiled, then, taking a languid lick of the candied apple.
“Let’s play.”
Minho smirked and nodded.
Taemin was a rather scary machine, indeed.
--
Screams filled town square and Jonghyun and Kibum ripped through the crowds, leather pants creaking with their movements as their eyes darted about. IT had staged an attack in the busiest part of town, where one of THEIR diplomats had been attending a festival. It had been a failed attempt, IT not knowing that Jonghyun and Kibum had been in the shadows waiting, but still, the two men hadn’t seen who the attacker was.
Fire erupted on the stage and spread quickly, smoke bombs exploding in the crowd as a small knife whizzed through the air - it would have connected with THEIR diplomat’s heart but Jonghyun had been quicker, snatching the weapon out of mid-air. Pandemonium had ensued and the smoke and fire were working, and really it was stupid that those parlor tricks could outdo the elite of THEM.
“Fuck fuck fuck,” Jonghyun cussed as he kicked a trash can, knocking it over and sending the contents flying.
Kibum, however, was inspecting the weapon that Jonghyun had snatched, his feline eyes raking over the handle, over the daggers’ shape, over the inscriptions. Suns, Moons, and Stars… it looked like a 6 year old had made it. Kibum knew better.
“This is a hand-made dagger,” Kibum said, sliding his fingertip down the blade, drawing a slight prick and a trickle of blood. He let his blood drip over the handle and he watched as the crimson liquid bubbled and evaporated, the fluid that was left behind turning a faint pink color. “It belongs to a healer.”
Jonghyun ran his fingers through his hair and tugged at the strands in agitation, “That guy last week was a healer.”
“It’s not the same one, their blood signatures are different,” Kibum mused, licking up the pink blood from the hilt of the dagger, tasting it on his tongue. “Besides, that healer died.”
“This is ridiculous, are there really that many people in the revolt?” Jonghyun asked, but the question was rhetorical as Kibum weighed the dagger in his hand and stayed silent for a few moments.
“It has a hand crafted sheath that it belongs to.” Kibum glanced up at Jonghyun. “Find the sheath, find the owner.”
“Oh right because that’s simple,” Jonghyun spat, by now pacing in circles as he waved his hands around to emphasize when he talked. “How many fucking people in this city carry weapons on them? Let’s think about this Kibum.” He stopped pacing as if to emphasize his words, putting on a mock thoughtful expression before snapping his fingers and smiling brightly. “Oh right, EVERYONE. We’re a fucking warrior city, we’ve been at war for a hundred years, there’s no way you can just narrow a dagger down to a sheath and expect to find the fucking assassin!”
Kibum let Jonghyun continue on his rant, the older man kicking more trash cans and flailing his hands about and occasionally running them down his face, obviously in distress.
“Jonghyun,” Kibum snapped, grabbing the collar of Jonghyun’s shirt and pulling him close, the younger man’s lips stretched in a snarl. “This dagger is connecting me to that healer and he’s close. Don’t take my skills for granted.” He scoffed and shoved Jonghyun away. “Or have you forgotten that I’m just as elite as you?”
Jonghyun scrunched his nose up in annoyance. “Fuck off. Just… fuck off. Where the hell is he?”
Kibum pointed North. “That way.”
“That’s where IT is.”
Kibum rolled his eyes, “No shit. Come on.”
Kibum started off down the sidewalk, pocketing the dagger alongside his own weapon, Jonghyun following closely behind him with a few grumbled protests.
“And quit staring at my ass or I swear to God your face will kiss the pavement.”
Jonghyun averted his eyes and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.
--
“They’re coming,” Taemin whispered as he and Minho crouched in an alley up North, in the dingiest part of town. He had almost leaned against the wall but thought twice, not wanting to get any grime on his shirt or pants - Minho was at the mouth of the alley, glancing around, trying to gauge how much time they had before their enemy caught up with them.
“I know,” Minho said, running a hand through his raven locks as he turned around and cradled his chin in his fingers.
“It’s my fault,” Taemin whined, balling his tiny hands into fists. “I shouldn’t have used my dagger.”
“You saw an opportunity and used it, there’s nothing wrong with that, Taemin.” Minho spoke surely and soundly, placing his hands on Taemin’s shoulders, forcing the younger boy to look up at him. “We have the elite coming after us. If anything, that’s probably the best thing that could have happened.”
Taemin bit his lip and glanced down, “But… I’m scared. They’re so much stronger than us-”
“You don’t know that.” Minho cut in, letting out a breath and pulling Taemin against his chest in a tight embrace. “We’re elite, too. Don’t forget that.”
He felt Taemin nod against his chest, his big hands rubbing soothing circles along the boy’s spine before he pulled away and took his hand.
“Come on, we should keep moving. We know this area better than they do, we could plan an ambush.”
Taemin nodded again and laced their fingers together, giving a squeeze. He wanted to believe that Minho would fix his mistake, clean up the mess that he had unintentionally created, he wanted to believe that Minho would forever protect him from the elitists that were hot on their trail.
But…
Taemin felt it when that other healer connected his blood to his home-made weapon. He felt it so surely, so intensely that it had nearly knocked the wind out of his lungs and that was frightening, more frightening than trying to kill THEIR diplomat in public in the middle of a festival, more frightening than being tossed out on the streets, more frightening than staring down the barrel of a gun.
That other healer had a connection with Taemin now and it wasn’t going to be broken…
And he and Minho were going to be found, one way or another.
It was just a matter of when.
[ Chapter 2 ----> ]
Progress: 1/?
Pairing: To be decided
Rating: PG-13 ~ NC-17
Warnings: Graphic violence, blood/gore, sexual situations (more to be added)
Summary: In a grisly future, healers and hunters are bred for the specific purpose of keeping order for THEM. But when IT starts to revolt and draft wary healers and hunters to create its own army, it’s obvious that someone is on the inside. Jonghyun and Kibum, the child prodigies of THEM are out to settle the score and find out what really happened - even at the sake of their own loyalty.
A/N: Title is a play on the term ‘cityscape’, which is basically ‘the view of the city’; it’s about wanting to break free from the norm, to escape the life you’re born into, to find yourself and others and do what you want to do with your own life.
This hit me randomly and it’s weird I know and probably a bit confusing but all will be explained. Doing another multi-chap will help keep my muse fresh and bright.
Pairings have not yet been decided.
This is a lot different from what I usually write but uhm. Enjoy? ^^;
-These first few chapters are going to be somewhat short to give some insight into the characters, the plot and the setting. Longer chapters with more action will be coming, I promise. I’m still fleshing this out as I go.
[ Prologue ]
--
“You’re going to attract attention.”
A soft giggle met Minho’s stiff words, and the flash of a white sundress flitted out of his vision. The brunet pursed his lips but stayed otherwise emotionless as Taemin frolicked about the crowds, perfectly content with his gender-bending ways. The artificial sun reflected off of the dress and the younger boy’s shiny hair and Minho couldn’t stay mad; whether they attracted attention or not wasn’t really the issue, it was all the perverts that would sometimes look at Taemin like a tasty morsel that Minho had an issue with.
“Hyung, hyung!”
Minho fell into step with Taemin as the younger boy pointed out to the other side of the street. A vendor was selling candied apples and Taemin had the most uncontrollable sweet tooth; so, unable to resist Taemin’s adorable pout, Minho looked both ways before allowing them to cross the busy street, the traffic moving slow enough for them to walk their way around the cars.
Taemin was always like this - tugging on Minho’s sleeve, jacket, hand, getting his attention and pointing out something completely ridiculous. Minho had never had a candied apple, he had never tasted much candy in his life, to be exact. He didn’t have that privilege when he was born into IT. He was born into the slums that were in a constant war, a place where children didn’t really get a childhood - toys and tv shows were exchanged for guns and training camps.
Taemin was lucky, though.
Taemin had originally been born under THEM, to be raised with THEM as a healer. No one could match his skill, however, and he had remained partner less and in THEIR eyes Taemin was useless unless his prodigal skills were being put to use. Without a hunter Taemin couldn’t be his full potential, and so THEY had kicked him out onto the streets.
Minho’s parents had found Taemin, they had taken him and raised him up. They had been in the process of training Minho to be a hunter, and it was by coincidence that Taemin happened to be a healer. Or at least that’s what they said.
Minho thought it had been fate, and since the day he had looked into those crystal blue eyes he knew that it was nothing but.
As they approached the vendor Taemin fidgeted with the scarf that was wrapped around his bicep, hiding the tattoo that marked everyone under IT. He had cried so hard when he got it done, the needle jabbing into his skin and Minho could only hold his hand and kiss the tears away, could only whisper that it’d be over soon. Minho babied Taemin a lot but he couldn’t help it - they were partners, they were friends, they were brothers, and Minho would shed his own blood before he let Taemin shed his.
That was the best quality in the hunter, Minho thought; unwavering loyalty to the healer.
“Hyung, can I have that one?” Taemin asked, pointing to a fat, red apple.
The vender smiled and picked it up, and Minho nodded, watching as the old man scooped it into the caramel sauce. It was then handed to Taemin, who happily started to lick up the caramel, and Minho handed the vendor exact change before nodding and putting his hand on the small of Taemin’s back, leading him down the sidewalk once again.
Glancing down at the shorter boy, Minho watched as one of the straps to the dress slipped lower and lower off those narrow shoulders. Licking his lips, he reached up to adjust the straps, and Taemin glanced up at him then, his lips sticky and sweet from the caramel apple.
“They didn’t really have one that fit properly,” the boy said, blushing prettily as he continued to eat his candied treat. Minho knew it didn’t fit properly because Taemin didn’t have breasts.
“It looks lovely,” Minho commented.
And it did - Taemin, for who knew what reason, loved to wear dresses and skirts and blouses and pull his hair up with pretty clips. He said it added color to their dreary world, it made their lives seem that much more cheery. Minho had to admire Taemin; after the Black Out almost everyone’s cheer and sunshine disappeared along with the actual Sun.
That wasn’t to say that Taemin should be underrated, just because he looked good in a sun dress.
No; Taemin could be a machine when he wanted, and despite the fact that he hated violence he would do his job without a word, assisting Minho on their missions.
“Minho…”
Blinking, Minho drew his gaze from Taemin’s protruding collarbones, where he had been staring without even noticing. His big eyes drew up to Taemin’s sapphire ones, to show he was listening.
Taemin smiled, then, taking a languid lick of the candied apple.
“Let’s play.”
Minho smirked and nodded.
Taemin was a rather scary machine, indeed.
--
Screams filled town square and Jonghyun and Kibum ripped through the crowds, leather pants creaking with their movements as their eyes darted about. IT had staged an attack in the busiest part of town, where one of THEIR diplomats had been attending a festival. It had been a failed attempt, IT not knowing that Jonghyun and Kibum had been in the shadows waiting, but still, the two men hadn’t seen who the attacker was.
Fire erupted on the stage and spread quickly, smoke bombs exploding in the crowd as a small knife whizzed through the air - it would have connected with THEIR diplomat’s heart but Jonghyun had been quicker, snatching the weapon out of mid-air. Pandemonium had ensued and the smoke and fire were working, and really it was stupid that those parlor tricks could outdo the elite of THEM.
“Fuck fuck fuck,” Jonghyun cussed as he kicked a trash can, knocking it over and sending the contents flying.
Kibum, however, was inspecting the weapon that Jonghyun had snatched, his feline eyes raking over the handle, over the daggers’ shape, over the inscriptions. Suns, Moons, and Stars… it looked like a 6 year old had made it. Kibum knew better.
“This is a hand-made dagger,” Kibum said, sliding his fingertip down the blade, drawing a slight prick and a trickle of blood. He let his blood drip over the handle and he watched as the crimson liquid bubbled and evaporated, the fluid that was left behind turning a faint pink color. “It belongs to a healer.”
Jonghyun ran his fingers through his hair and tugged at the strands in agitation, “That guy last week was a healer.”
“It’s not the same one, their blood signatures are different,” Kibum mused, licking up the pink blood from the hilt of the dagger, tasting it on his tongue. “Besides, that healer died.”
“This is ridiculous, are there really that many people in the revolt?” Jonghyun asked, but the question was rhetorical as Kibum weighed the dagger in his hand and stayed silent for a few moments.
“It has a hand crafted sheath that it belongs to.” Kibum glanced up at Jonghyun. “Find the sheath, find the owner.”
“Oh right because that’s simple,” Jonghyun spat, by now pacing in circles as he waved his hands around to emphasize when he talked. “How many fucking people in this city carry weapons on them? Let’s think about this Kibum.” He stopped pacing as if to emphasize his words, putting on a mock thoughtful expression before snapping his fingers and smiling brightly. “Oh right, EVERYONE. We’re a fucking warrior city, we’ve been at war for a hundred years, there’s no way you can just narrow a dagger down to a sheath and expect to find the fucking assassin!”
Kibum let Jonghyun continue on his rant, the older man kicking more trash cans and flailing his hands about and occasionally running them down his face, obviously in distress.
“Jonghyun,” Kibum snapped, grabbing the collar of Jonghyun’s shirt and pulling him close, the younger man’s lips stretched in a snarl. “This dagger is connecting me to that healer and he’s close. Don’t take my skills for granted.” He scoffed and shoved Jonghyun away. “Or have you forgotten that I’m just as elite as you?”
Jonghyun scrunched his nose up in annoyance. “Fuck off. Just… fuck off. Where the hell is he?”
Kibum pointed North. “That way.”
“That’s where IT is.”
Kibum rolled his eyes, “No shit. Come on.”
Kibum started off down the sidewalk, pocketing the dagger alongside his own weapon, Jonghyun following closely behind him with a few grumbled protests.
“And quit staring at my ass or I swear to God your face will kiss the pavement.”
Jonghyun averted his eyes and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.
--
“They’re coming,” Taemin whispered as he and Minho crouched in an alley up North, in the dingiest part of town. He had almost leaned against the wall but thought twice, not wanting to get any grime on his shirt or pants - Minho was at the mouth of the alley, glancing around, trying to gauge how much time they had before their enemy caught up with them.
“I know,” Minho said, running a hand through his raven locks as he turned around and cradled his chin in his fingers.
“It’s my fault,” Taemin whined, balling his tiny hands into fists. “I shouldn’t have used my dagger.”
“You saw an opportunity and used it, there’s nothing wrong with that, Taemin.” Minho spoke surely and soundly, placing his hands on Taemin’s shoulders, forcing the younger boy to look up at him. “We have the elite coming after us. If anything, that’s probably the best thing that could have happened.”
Taemin bit his lip and glanced down, “But… I’m scared. They’re so much stronger than us-”
“You don’t know that.” Minho cut in, letting out a breath and pulling Taemin against his chest in a tight embrace. “We’re elite, too. Don’t forget that.”
He felt Taemin nod against his chest, his big hands rubbing soothing circles along the boy’s spine before he pulled away and took his hand.
“Come on, we should keep moving. We know this area better than they do, we could plan an ambush.”
Taemin nodded again and laced their fingers together, giving a squeeze. He wanted to believe that Minho would fix his mistake, clean up the mess that he had unintentionally created, he wanted to believe that Minho would forever protect him from the elitists that were hot on their trail.
But…
Taemin felt it when that other healer connected his blood to his home-made weapon. He felt it so surely, so intensely that it had nearly knocked the wind out of his lungs and that was frightening, more frightening than trying to kill THEIR diplomat in public in the middle of a festival, more frightening than being tossed out on the streets, more frightening than staring down the barrel of a gun.
That other healer had a connection with Taemin now and it wasn’t going to be broken…
And he and Minho were going to be found, one way or another.
It was just a matter of when.
[ Chapter 2 ----> ]