#royal!techno x reader

There you stood, tall on the roof, without a worry of the oblivious minds below. As you pulled your mask down to suck the dry air in, warm condensation escaped your open mouth. Dressed in all black, with a hooded scarf to conceal your identity further, you were invisible save for the vulnerability of your eyes. 

No matter the fear of isolation or disregard, you welcomed the darkness with open arms, for its shade offered both your protection and advantage over unsuspecting victims. 

Here you were ignored, yet here you were feared. A man may fight their enemies with courage or contempt, but fear overtakes any competence when one’s eyes fails to potentially protect from harm. 

Make no mistake that you were trained in skill to quell all threats against you, big or small, but when night fell and the sun took its leave, you held no chance of mistake, no chance of error; you thrived as a shadow that fed off the foolishness of false security.

Suddenly, a distant bark caught your attention ahead, the growl of a large dog scaring away the poor drunks that stumbled to close to the watchful guard. Narrowing your eyes before masking yourself again, you crouched before leaping across the slate tile, moving quick in graceful steps with no sound to alert nor follow. 

Only the moon could follow your haste, but as a rabbit that ran like prey, you cleared each rooftop to escape the steady gleam, no falter or pause in hopes of escape.

You were simply free. Free to run and free to fly, hidden in the open with nothing to restrain you but Helios himself.  

Once catching yourself on the dog’s home, you gathered your breaths and edged close to the rooftop’s end. Eying your descent, you mentally scanned the sudden drop and unexpectedly, jumped. You swiftly leaped to a neighboring house, grasping onto a window ledge before prancing to the opposing wall.

The homeowner may have stationed the dog on watch, but only a fool would leave their window open. 

Then again, one has nothing to fear on a secondary floor, nothing but the cold itself. 

You rolled once touching the wooden flooring, careful to carry the dense silence with your entry. As you steadied and climbed to your feet, your surveyed the space before you.

The room, big in spite of its outwardly appearance, was comforted with lush furnitures and proof of wealthy status. It looked to be an office, considering the papers stamped with official wax seals on a small desk.

Trinkets and useless knickknacks covered the walls with purpose of show and tell; the tellings that a proud man currently occupied the home. 

Slowly, you approached the desk with mild curiosity, reading over the open letters and inked replies. It was tempting, to swipe the words that held some importance regarding their appearance, yet a distant crackle briskly reminded you of your forefront. 

There was a roaring fire that glowed from another room, its warmth contrasting the harsh weather outside that few were fortunate enough to fight against. Following its flicker, you found the very man dozing away on the ground, inches away from the oversized bed. In his hand, you found a bottle of burning liquor, likely empty with the contents spilled near its opening. 

Also, of course, with the majority spent on the passed out drunk. 

You scoffed before walking over him, disgusted by the likes of which the riches of a prosperous nation was spent on, and what such high authority figures were meant to be. 

From his office and your own prior intel, you knew that the man was a nobleman of the Arctic Empire, well off with too much to spend or properly utilize. He was a specifically shady figure, suspected of capital crimes and greedy intents that dismissed those that worked unfairly under him. He was a criminal with a name and money to hide behind. 

‘Noble? What a pathetic irony,’ you internally mocked. A term defined with high moral principles and ideals, was simultaneously shared with the political scum that held no concern for the people that suffered at the hands. It was pathetic. It was infuriating to know such waste saw themselves more deserving of the air you shared, of their importance for upsetting the scale of worth. 

Although he made a fine victim to target for riches or assets, you followed your research on him with one intention in mind. 

As you ignored the man behind you, you crossed the bedroom to a locked cabinet, tucked between bookshelves with knowledge wasted away on the useless imbecile. 

You gathered the lock in your hand and studied the piece, somewhat admiring the technical mechanics it took to engineer such a device. To think mankind could produce such technologies with an idea and purpose to protect. 

A simple lock may guard the treasures behind its vault, but it could only do so much against the genius of understanding its inner workings. 

Removing the tools necessary from your side holster, you made quick work of the device, all while keeping the sleeping idiot in the room in mind. In seconds, with a click and release, you pulled the lock away with a victorious smirk, your eyes giving away your brief success. 

You paid no mind to the creak the wooden doors released, focused on fulfilling your objective entirely. Lined in neat rows, likely counted by the selfish man every evening, were dozens of thin bottles, all various in colored glows. 

Potions. 

Potions, while not rare, were difficult to find in such numbers. They were expensive to obtain and particularly so for the common folk. Physicians and medical personnels had small grants to obtain the elixirs in mind for their practice, but even then, grants could only get one so far. 

Especially when corrupt distributors gate-kept the commodities from the lower class, high prices and poor quality traded in for human integrity. 

It was despicable and clawed at the temptation to do something to the same man that lent a hand in, or quite possibly began, such corruption. He only laid mere feet from you; the work would be quick, it would be clean, and even more so, rewarding. Time hung still and the thought clouded your vision, your eyes drifting to the sleeping figure, defenseless and exposed.

You weren’t a monster. You may be thief, a good one, but you were no monster. Only the type to steal from one. 

Shaking your head, you cleared your mind to the task at hand. You opened your drop leg pouch, disregarding any fascination you had for the types of concoctions, the miracles you currently held in your hands, and shoved as many as you could away. 

You refused to leave without every single one.

Finishing quickly, you silently eased in knowing half the work was finished. More importantly, the harder work. You closed the now empty cabinet, fixed the lock back in place, and moved. 

No victory was as glorious as the time to bask in one’s success, but that time would need to wait when the risk of being discovered didn’t still linger. That, and when you weren’t standing in the disgusting home of a drunk, entitled sot. 

With a final look to confirm your stealth, you made you way to the exit, your exit, but paused at the sight you missed when initially coming through. 

Flowers, innocent yet all the same beautiful, sat in a small vase on the console table, all below the open window. They were a soft blue and bright in stark contrast to the drear cast of the room. It was a wonder such color could exist in the home by the man’s choice, yet even more so in the arctic where plants were a scarce commodity. 

You stared on a moment longer before a loud groan interrupted your gaze. 

The noise echoed deeply as you stilled before soft snores followed after. Knowing it was unlikely for the man to completely awaken and find you, you relaxed slightly but moved all the same. 

The flowers did not escape your temptation unlike all things previously against the man, however, and as you toed on the window still, your body refused to move in knowing what was next you. You glanced back down at the beauties and softly caressed the petals between your fingers. 

It was both humorous and exhausting, the things you found fascinating. 

Sighing while removing the bundle, you adjusted your grip on the wet stems with one hand and readied your leave, reliant on the other hand alone. Finally, you ended your stay.

Flying into the night, the shadows rejoiced as they then became one. 

--

The tithe barn was daunting at this time of night, or in theory, day. 

Though the peeking crevasses exposed the burning lanterns within, its size in contrast to the lesser buildings forced a feeling of chills, implementing the thoughts of what could lurk within. 

It followed the unsettling fear of darkness many felt; a fear in which you already immersed yourself with.  

Noting your surroundings and the, lack thereof, people near, you climbed down from your perch and proceeded towards the large doors; your first steps on the hard earth since the night began. 

You paused once in front of the entrance. Despite the doors being locked, you chose not to ready your kit, and rather instead reached behind the stacked crates along the barn doors. While some would disregard the tossed cases, you knew better when your hand blindly grabbed a rope, tugging the tight line repeatedly before waiting. 

At first, nothing came. You huffed impatiently seconds on and reached to pull again, only for the doors to fly open and light flood your vision. Rubbing your eyes, you glowered harshly at the man before you. 

Callahan seemed all too pleased at your annoyance, cross armed with a raised head, and he continued to leer down until your facade faded into a tired grin. You pushed past him to enter the grand space, blinking repeatedly to adjust to the lighting. 

The barn was old and worn, rustic in its own regards with little to its name. As the district you stood in now developed beyond the fields which once fed the kingdom’s economy, there were too little crops to fund the farming community. Homes were built on the farm lands, but luckily, due to its abandoned state, the massive storage system made a perfect refuge from the high of felony.  

Nevertheless, with that space, came the need to fill it. The high ceilings were strung with lanterns aglow, secured humorously with arrows through the wooden beams. Despite the risky fixture and limited lamps, the refuge felt welcoming enough to hide within; bright and secure to create one’s own safe haven, yet soft and hidden to uphold a feeling of peace.

Old pieces of furniture and appliances also crowded corners and some areas of the room. In the very middle, however, was a round table, with chairs tucked around. Five to be exact. Any debris or piles of clutter laid a path to the table, with other tables stationed sporadically around it. 

You walked past boxes, mostly of old farming equipment, and settled against one of the supportive beams near the mid table. It was only when you began removing your gear, did Callahan address you. 

“I do not remember flowers being part of the errand.” His words were slow but his hands quick as they moved in swift notions. Although you couldn’t hear his tone, you understood him enough to read through his body language, seeing a slight contempt with your tendencies to become distracted. 

While minuscule, such annoyance was placed on your found treasure, the flowers, this time round. Said flowers which were currently laid on the table across you. 

Glancing back down to remove the final articles of clothing that protected you from the cold, you grunted when pulling off the buckle to your pouch; with its removal, the glass vials chimed against your movements. 

You smirked when gently tossing the bag to him, rising to meet his eyes. 

“I make with more gold than we could carry between the five of us, leave the flowers be.”

Callahan pointedly ignored your words, completely entranced when opening the leather flap to the potions, warm colors which glowed against his skin. You silently laughed when he said nothing further, unexpectedly turning towards the round table to lay the vials down. Following him, you threw your outer wear on an old rack and watched him respectfully. 

“And?” he signed. You knew to wait for him to finish before responding. After he organized the elixirs by type, he finally gave you his full attention. 

“Easy, as usual.” Your response earned a scoff, and a disbelieving shake of his head. 

“Your arrogance will be your downfall,” he scowled, rude but teasing. His statement, one you’ve heard before, made you beam in pride. So many warnings yet here you stood before him, without a true downfall in history to write. 

“What arrogance?” you questioned in false confusion, head titled with a pouted frown. With your chin supported by your fists on the table surface, you were met with a deadpanned expression, prompting you to giggle uncontrollably. 

Callahan, a man of few words, was a menacing one all the same; quiet and resourceful, he was more observational than his nature let on and could seem neutral till his eyes made your defeat.

It was, if anything, a mercy and show when he stated his opinion to you; a way to convey how much he cared enough to warn you of your flaws. 

“You share the same weakness as Dream,” he stated. His blunt response interrupted your fit, and you paused in visual surprise to the announcement. Ever stoic, his stormy blue eyes revealed nothing beyond the surface of his words. 

It didn’t help that his lips remained fixed in a tight line, neither showing amusement or displeasure with your character. You licked your lips before squinting at him.

“Pride?”

He stared on, with only the lanterns’ flame to fill the dead silence. Finally, he gave a rare, smug smile. 

“Ignorance to a fault.”

Rolling your eyes, you pushed yourself away from the table to sit down properly. You refused to admit your defeat to his taunts and attempted to change the subject at hand, leaning back dangerously far with your feet to support. Your expression was masked as a serious look overtook your features. 

“How will you go by distributing them?”

With your formality came his. Callahan stood tall before gesturing to a large board that housed a map of the entire kingdom, along with notes pinned to certain areas of the paper. 

“By necessities.”

He walked over to write something new in, grabbing a near quill to add your recent success in the potions heist. While you couldn’t deny the gratification that filled you when he changed the board’s progression, a frown tugged on your lips when overlooking the entire board, where more notes outweighed all developments. 

Callahan hesitated, an action that edged you on its own, before fully facing you from the distance. 

“The resource dam in the Empire has been present ever since the end of the Plague two cycles ago,” he began, walking closer until hunched over the table. “The dangers of crime has only grown significantly in the last cycle.”

“Crime, aye? How atrocious.” Sarcasm practically radiated from you, but from your weak smile and lowered hands, it was clear the information was hard to joke around. It was something you were well aware of before beginning your own crimes, but the news was still just as hard to process each time presented. 

Deliberately ignoring you, Callahan continued to progress his point further. 

“If the King is as blind as we suspect, it is likely veins of corruption have already taken root.”

You nodded while down casting your eyes. Hands wringed, an overcast of thoughts stormed your mind. There was no denying the basic facts of what was clear, especially when the evidence was in how the people suffered and how little action was taken by the King, himself. 

No matter your opinion or disdain to high authority figures, King Zephyrus was beloved by his people for good reason. Whether that reason be lost to you, it was irrelevant to the case of how the people treated their King, and how they were being treated in turn. 

The Plague, realistically, held a huge significance to the suffering of the people in the age of recovery from the destruction and outbreak; however, it couldn’t be blamed for all when there was a lack of aid to recover from its impact. 

Everyone suffered from its impact, whether that be the royal family or your own. 

Exhaling tensely, you looked back up to Callahan’s awaiting eyes. 

“Thoughts?” you asked. 

“This is not our normal routine,” Callahan began, grimacing to his own observations. “We cannot possibly redistribute the resources fair with our numbers, least with our situation.” 

Pausing, you fell quiet.

‘This was a voice of defeat,’ you realized, staring incredulity. You pushed yourself up harshly, your chair falling back from the action. Paying no mind to the noise, you spoke slow yet angrily at the connotations. 

“And what of the people we swore to help?” Eyes unforgiving, you refused to back down when challenging Callahan’s. Though his were regretful, they were just as unassailable as yours in that very moment. 

“You and I both know we swore to no one and have no ties to anyone here.”

If possible, his words infuriated you even more. You signed faster than your thoughts could carry, lost in irritation to the idea of surrender, of submission to the likes of capital corruption. 

“Yet we are here with a reason to try!”

“What worth is there to try when all efforts are in vain?” Callahan’s pace matched your own, exasperated to the conversation, argument, at hand. It was clear he didn’t want to fight on the subject more than you did, but he was stubborn just as you were to back down from his position. 

It was a flaw in your relations, how stubborn you both could be as friends and colleagues. Though it angered you, you had no one to blame but yourself when surrounding yourself with incompetent men. 

As you breathed deeply to control your frustrations, Callahan spoke lowly to you when holding his perspective firm.

“Understand that we have no loyalty to anyone but ourselves.” His words cut deeper than what was seen at face value, and you understood what he hinted towards unintentionally. 

‘Ourselves,’ you internally repeated. ‘Nothing is more important than us, nothing is worth more than us,’ is what he means. 

You scoffed aloud, free of humor or jokes. Speaking aloud, your voice rang strong throughout the space as you leaned forwards with your hands pressed to the table surface. With your eyes in slits, you glared threateningly, no longer cordial nor benign. 

“I refuse to abandon a cause we have barely begun.”

“Y/n—”

“You’re back!”

Reaching unconsciously for your concealed dagger, you flung the weapon towards the unknown voice. Disputes or squabbles, any argument wasn’t as important as an unannounced threat, specifically in your locked, center of operations.  

You raised a second dagger to shield Callahan and you, but as your eyes adjusted to the high of adrenaline, the sight of your dagger in hold of the assailant caused your position to slack. 

“Sapnap,” you exhaled, limp from the relief and exhaustion of your previous endeavors in the night. 

In his hand, he caught your dagger inches near his face. While you were relieved he saved himself from your attack, you were well aware of his capabilities to protect himself; to protect himself against grander threats than a simple dagger. 

“Loose something?” he questioned, brow raised from the sudden strike. He tossed the blade into the air, before catching it properly and throwing it back at you. Seizing it by the handle in mid aim, you sheathed your blades altogether. 

“How did you enter without alerting one of u—”

“You see,” Sapnap started, interrupting you shamelessly, “I tried. Multiple times.”

Sharing a glance with Callahan behind you, he shrugged before turning away, leaving you to deal with the nuisance that is Sapnap. You rubbed your neck shyly from your lack of observation. “Apologies,” you quipped. 

Like you previously did moments prior, there was a triggered pulley that was implemented to alert Callahan, or anyone within the base, to unlock the doors from the inside. As you were heated in an argument with Callahan, both of you likely failed to notice Sapnap’s call for attention.

And failing to give Sapnap the attention he demanded was almost as dangerous as the pyromaniac when in battle. 

“Wait a second,” you voiced, brows furrowed in confusion, “how did you even enter when we failed to open the door?”

“Ahh,” he smiled, gesturing behind him to the open doors blown from the evening wind. “The doors are in need of another repair, Callahan may want to correct his faulty lock.”

You both knew Callahan’s devices and instruments were unparalleled to anything ‘faulty,’ and that Sapnap forced his way in impatiently. 

His brute personality brought ease back into your shoulders and a steady smile to your face. He returned it in full, and suddenly pulled you into him for a suffocating embrace. 

“You were taking some time to return, we were worried.”

Flailing briefly in his arms before giving up entirely, you pitched your tone mockingly, “we?”

The crushing weight holding you went loose, exposing him to his lie. Although you began to try your attempt, you forgot that Sapnap had no shame when forced to the truth. He squeezed you tighter, causing you to gasp in surprise. 

“Alright, I meant me, yet can you blame me? You were taking so looooooooooong.” His whines rang loudly in your ear, and your groan rivaled it in sound. 

With a final shove, you managed to remove his hold on you and breathe. Hands on your knees, you could hear him chuckle in reaction and slowly join him; despite his high energies, Sapnap was a bright wonder that coincidentally knew how to remove the tension of a room. 

Once you gathered yourself, you straightened up to look at him tower over you. His smile faded into something dimmer, but not from anything foul. Raising his brows with crossed arms, the question went unspoken. 

‘Successful?’

“Of course,” you replied aloud, sighing a smile from the need to question. Unlike Callahan, Sapnap felt no need to tease or remark, only grinning proudly with a hand on your shoulder to congratulate. 

“I had no doubt.”

The sudden presence besides the both of you called your attention, Callahan seemingly annoyed with the two of you standing there. You looked away, still upset with your exchange, while Sapnap huffed theatrically. 

“Why are you still here?” he dragged out, childish and abrupt. His tone made you laugh again, like always.

“I am unsure myself,” Callahan retorted impassively.

With his hand still on your left shoulder, Sapnap reached his other onto Callahan’s. He pushed it off, only for Sapnap to replace it again. You snickered from his play. 

However, short of patience to give, Callahan forced Sapnap’s hand off more aggressively before stepping forwards, hand motions stiff and expression hard. 

“Do not distract more than you intend. Dream is waiting.”

‘Dream?’

“Waiting?” you questioned. Sapnap only looked down at your voice, uncharacteristically reluctant to meet your eyes. 

“Sap?”

From his shut mouth, you grew more concerned by the second. Extending your hand, you cupped his cheeks reassuringly with a soft nod. If your voice wavered in fear of what there was to tell, he made no reaction towards it.

“What is it?”

Sapnap sighed, and finally, dared to peek his eyes from his lowered head. 

“He’s found it,” he murmured. 

“Found…”

“The answer.”

Eyes wide, you held no hesitation when grasping Sapnap’s arm anxiously. 

“Take me to him, now.”

a/n - what do you think? pls feel free to shoot a comment or ask, i’d love to hear your feedback and thoughts! much love, pls drink water and treat yourself well today <3

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