31 May 2020
Prompt: Shot with an Arrow
Character/Pairing: Dingo King (OC), Luka Couffaine
Rating: M / PG-16 / Adult
Notes: Not part of the DLM AU! Ok, going out with a bang. Bc there's been too much stress the past few days & my dumbass son always…er…usually always makes me happy. If you don't know Dingo…um…shit, this is about as good an intro as any. xD
"Oh. My. God."
Luka's fingers stilled on Claire's strings. He had known Dingo King long enough to know that anything that got him that excited wasn't a good thing. With the Captain's hoarding tendencies, there were a lot of not good things aboard the Liberty for Dingo to get into. Sure enough, not a minute later Dingo came rushing up to the sunroom, a…
Oh.
Dear.
God.
A fucking crossbow in his hands.
Where the hell had Anarka Couffaine procured a crossbow, and how had he never seen it before?
(He knew about the harpoon gun. He also remembered the hospital visit from the time Dingo had learned about the harpoon gun. Luka was, quite understandably, suddenly very afraid.)
"…what…uh…what'cha got there, buddy?" Luka asked, sitting up a bit straighter on the loveseat. He put Claire in the stand beside him and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees and his hands clenching and unclenching in anxious fists. He was ninety percent sure Dingo wasn't holding the crossbow correctly. Granted, he wasn't too well-versed in crossbows, beyond knowing that one guy on the zombie show Jules liked used one, but he was pretty sure the shooty part wasn't supposed to be pointed at your fucking face.
"The Captain had it downstairs! How cool is this? Can you believe it?" Dingo crowed, spinning the crossbow like it was a baton and aiming at one of the potted trees on the other side of the room. Like he was fucking Jeremy Renner auditioning for the next Marvel movie. He pantomimed shooting it, like he was holding a rifle instead of a crossbow (even making little pyew-pyew noises), and Luka felt the knot in his stomach getting tighter. There was no way this was going to end well.
His hand absently started rubbing at his wrist, missing the cool, comforting weight of his Miraculous. He had a feeling he was going to need it.
"Ding, maybe you shouldn't be…watch out!" he cried, leaping into action when Dingo's finger slipped on the trigger and the bolt flew with a swish into the doorframe. They both turned wide, horrified eyes towards the door to find Brielle standing there, two cans of lemonade in her hands, staring back at them with equally horrified eyes. They watched as her eyes slid to the doorframe beside her, where the bolt was still quivering at eye level. She sucked in a breath, her hands gripping the cans so hard both burst all over the black Blink-182 shirt she had stolen from Dingo back in their first year of lycée. (The band was too mainstream for her, but she liked their logo.)
"B-Bri! You ok, babe?" Dingo squeaked. "Shit, I am so sorry! That…that wasn't…here, I got this, I…"
"Dingo, stop!" Luka cried, trying to grab the crossbow from him before he could reload it. Dingo waved him off, insisting he had this, but past experience had taught them all he very much did not.
"I'm gonna steal a shirt from Juleka," Brielle said, throwing the mostly-empty cans on deck and ripping her soaked shirt off. Casually and quickly dismissing herself from the situation and any further involvement in the mess Dingo was bound to cause. "Asshole."
"Wha…oh my God tits," Dingo gaped, and Luka jumped back with a curse as Dingo dropped the fucking crossbow, which he had somehow managed to reload, and…
Luka watched, horrified (yet knowing all the while it would happen because it was fucking Dingo and of fucking course he would), as the impact released the trigger and the bolt fired straight up through Dingo's jaw and…
There was a moment – a horrible, dazed moment, where Dingo's sunglasses fell from his face and his glazed brown eyes met Luka's – where Luka wondered if crossbows had safeties and, if so, why the fuck it wasn't on. And how Dingo had managed to land the headshot instead of…well, honestly Luka would have sworn he'd shoot himself in the dick. It was a more Dingo way to go. And then time kicked back in, and Dingo was falling to the deck, and Luka was once again wishing he had Sass with him.
"Bri! Call 1-1-2!"